Unclaimed Daughter
by 252020
Summary: Born a bastard, raised a lady, and wed to a Lannister. When Lyanna Snow draws the eyes of the King her life changes forever, and she soon finds herself in King's Landing, a bastard among royals, in a court full of intrigue, and death. But which side will she choose in the end? Jaime/OC.
1. The arrival of the King

_**Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, profit from this story and all creative rights to the characters (except my OC, she is all my doing) belong to their original creator, George R. R. Martin.**_

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The visitors poured through the castle gates in a river of gold and silver and polished steel, three hundred strong, a pride of bannermen and knights, of sworn swords and freeriders. Over their heads a dozen golden banners whipped back and forth in the northern wind, emblazoned with the crowned stag of Baratheon. She had never seen anything like it, even Sansa's colorful imagination hadn't done it justice during the last few days as she had painted a picture of their arrival for anyone who would listen.

And though Lyanna knew many a knight by sight, none of the new arrivals were familiar to her. But a few she could guess, one with his hair as bright as beaten gold, another with his terrible burned face, and the tall boy beside him could only be the crown prince, and that stunted little man behind them was surely the Imp, Tyrion Lannister. The golden haired knight's brother, impossible as it might seem due to the vast difference in their build and beauty. The Queen's siblings.

The huge man at the head of the column, flanked by two knights in the snow-white cloaks of the Kingsguard, though very different from the tales of her childhood, could only be the King. A suspicion that was proven true when he all but crushed her father in a bone-crunching hug the moment he gotten of his stallion.

"Ned! Ah, but it is good to see that frozen face of yours." The king looked him over top to bottom, and laughed. "You have not changed at all."

She could only imagine what went though her father's mind at those words. For this man could not be more different from the King she had painted in her mind, hearing stories of valor, his iron warhammer, and skill with the blade during her childhood. This man, she doubted, would even be able to swing a sword. But then, time changed a person both physically and mentally. Last time she had been in the presence of the king she had been a babe. In fact her father had told her that the King had been the one to name her. Yet he had not asked for her or her twin when he greeted the Stark children. Even a King, it seemed, knows better than to bring light on the bastards. Not even one he had named.

That was at least was true until his eyes fell on her, standing behind her half siblings in the crowed of servants and squires, though it was not her he saw. That much she could tell from the reverent tone of his voice as he whispered her name, his hand reaching out to touch her as if he was a ghost that could disappear at any given second. And at that moment she wished she could, she haf no desire to draw the King's interest.

It took all her willpower to not flinch away, as well as her twin's touch on her wrist, when he made contact.

"Your grace?" She said instead, awkwardly dropping into a curtsy. He said nothing. It wasn't until he was greeted with her dark lilac eyes that understanding drew on him and his hand fell from her cheek.

"I almost mistook you for your aunt." He said in way of explanation, or perhaps he was simply thinking out loud, before he smiled. "I named you well, you are a true rose of the North." He said, finally taking a step back before moving to leave with her father and pay his respect to her late aunt.

But before they had even truly disappeared from sight her youngest sister, the daughter that people could safely compare their late aunt to without slighting Lady Stark, turned around to look at her with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"I can see it too. You do look just like her, you know. Even mother says you could have been her twin."

That was news to her, the Lady Stark had never had a kind word to say to her, or, she had thought, about her. But her old suspicions were proven true as Arya finished "…. if Starks had twins. She once said your mother might be a Lannister, they are known for birthing twins. But I think you look too much like a Stark, you don't look anything like the Queen."

"There was never any doubt about it. She is a Stark, through and trough." Their eldest brother said coming up behind Arya, a smile on his lips. "No one can claim Jon or Lyanna are anything but after having seen them with their own eyes."

"But we are not." Lyanna said quietly at first. "We are Snows, like any other bastards of the North." The words had come out colder than she had intended, and she forced an apologetic smile as she looked up at her brother's uncomfortable expression. They might see her and Jon as Starks, even her father, but no one else would. Her lord father had given her and Jon more than she had ever heard of any other lord give their bastards, he loved them, he saw to their needs and education, he even raised them in his home with his trueborn children. The only thing he did not give was his name. She had been raised a lady, but with the firm knowledge she would never be one. Just as her brother had been raised a lord knight, knowing fully well he would never wear a knight's armor. Lady Stark took every opportunity to remind them both.

Jon however had a future, plans she had forced herself to encourage, constantly telling him not to worry about her, that she knew her worth, that their father would take care of her. That Robb and their siblings would as well. After all Robb would someday inherit Winterfell, would command great armies as the Warden of the North. Bran and Rickon would be Robb's bannermen and rule holdfasts in his name. Their sisters Arya and Sansa would marry the heirs of other great houses and go south as mistress of castles of their own. She didn't need to tell him that they would never be enough. Deep down he knew that too. Why else would he want to take the Black and join the night watch?

"Ana…" Arya said worriedly, looking up at her sister, only to gain a forced smile for her efforts before Lyanna walked away without a word.

Lyanna had learned early on in life that her father's wife had no love to spare for her husband's bastard children. They were a constant reminder of their father's indiscretion, one that was rubbed in her face on a daily basis as they ran around her home, as they played with her children, and ate at her table. While Lyanna could understand the dislike, it still hurt. Lady Stark was perhaps the closest thing to a mother she would ever have, something her father reinforced further by refusing to give her or Jon so much as the name of the woman who carried them in her womb. But the hurt she had felt over Lady Stark's behavior towards them had faded over the years. As she entered her teens other fears and worries took its place as she and Jon truly began to understand their lot in life. But in the last few months she had almost been able to forget her worries. Being forced to stand away from their father and siblings as the King had arrived had simply reminded her of what she was; something to hide and be ashamed of.

Her likeness to her aunt was yet another reminder, she had heard the stories too many times to count; the wolf-blooded daughter of the North whose kind heart and beauty had brought about a rebellion and made princes fall. Lyanna was her shadow, her identical twin born to her brother. But the "real" Lyanna had been a trueborn Stark, her shadow was merely a bastard who the old gods had cured with her looks…

The thought soured her mood further. The conviction she had felt as the sun set and she had sent Jon on his way to the feast she had been forbidden to attend had long since evaporated in her lonesomeness. The cool summer air had been calling her since she had shut the door in his face and after six hours she was ready to give in and sneak out. It wasn't the first time she had done so, nor would it be the last. She needn't worry, she knew how to defend herself. She knew how to use a dagger better than most knights knew how to use their swords. Her lord father had made sure she learned when it became clear she would not stay guarded in the castle. It was the only time he had mentioned her mother to her, the first and only time she wasn't likened to her late aunt but to the woman who had birthed her. He had touched her cheek with such tenderness that night, as if she was truly a gift and not a burden. While the gestured had happened again, no other words regarding to her mother had ever been spoken between them.

As she hid in the shadows of the castle walls she could hear the jovial sounds coming from the Great Hall, but she ignored it. Her aim was to get to the stables unseen and go on a late night run through the woods. She was a wolf and the moon was full. She wouldn't get many other chances, winter was coming. She knew that as certainly as any trueborn Stark.

She had almost made it to her destination without seeing a single soul, so when she suddenly felt someone come up behind her she reacted instinctively and had her dagger against the man's throat before he could react. The eyes that stared back at her as she drew blood made her all but threw herself backward in fear; one green, one black.

She had expected him to be furious, but instead he seemed amused by her action as he stood up, swiping away the blood that trickled from his throat. "Good for you." He simply said.

"I didn't see you, mi 'lord." She said awkwardly as looked at him in the torchlight, horrified. The wound wasn't deep, it wouldn't even scar. It had been meant to warn him, nothing more. But that would not save her if he was truly angry. He was a lord, he could have her whipped, maybe even killed, for this.

"Your blade would say otherwise, such precision does not often bless the blind."

"I though you were a pickpocket. I didn't know it was you, Lord Tyrion."

"Now, that I believe. I should have made my presence known in a safer way, it seems. But most women do not sneak around at night with a blade in hand. Who are you sneaking off to see? A lover?" She didn't say anything, and her silence only seemed to amuse him further. "Perhaps one of the stable boys? Your father would be most displeased, he seems unusually protective of his bastards."

"I have no lover." She said quietly, but there was conviction behind her words. She would never curse a child to her own fate. The thought gave her courage, she had her honor and pride, and her voice was strong as she continued. "And my lord father knows I like to ride at night, that is why he gave me my dagger."

"And taught you to use it." He said dryly. Before taking a complete turn in conversation. "But that was not why I followed you. You were not at the feast, the King was most displeased not to see you."

"Lady Stark thought it inappropriate for a bastard to share the table with a King. I am not as easily hidden among the masses as my brother."

"I do not think he would have minded, he has certainly sired enough of his own." He said, and again she remained silent. After all there was little to be said. He seemed to know it too as he changed the subject. "The King wishes to bring you back to King's landing, did you know?"

"One of the benefits of being a bastard is that my father would have no reason to send me to court. Unlike my half-sisters I will be able to stay in the North. And there are still a few years before my father will send them, they are too young for marriage. There would be no reason for me to go to King's Landing."

"There is every reason. The King has asked Lord Stark to be the hand of the King, or at least he plans to. Surely you know as much." She nodded, there had been no other reason for the King to journey so far to se him. Not after the last hand had fallen ill and died at least. "He will go. One does not refuse the King, your father knows this. So should you. And the King has offered to find you a match at court, one that would not dishonor the Stark name."

"He should find one for my half-sisters instead. I am no Stark."

"You would be in the eyes of the court, at least very briefly." He said.

"The Lady Stark would never allow it. I am not a trueborn."

"She would have little choice in the matter. Nor would you or your father. It is a great honor to have the King go though such trouble on your behalf."

"Then I pity the man who will be forced to wed a bastard."

"Ah, but you will be the bastard of the King's hand, and the sister of the future Queen. You will be quite a price."

"Queen?" She yelped, her eyes wide.

"Lady Sansa and Prince Joffrey are to be engaged. The House of Stark and the House of Baratheon are to be united by blood, as it would have been if your aunt had lived. The King has ordered it, and so it shall be."

TBC...


	2. The idea of Marriage

She moved silently though the halls of Winterfell castle until she reached her room, slinking in though the door silent as a mouse without anyone being the wiser. However the small smile her victory had brought onto her lips fell quickly as she caught sight of the man seated on her bed.

"You were gone all night." It was a statement without any particular tone or inclination, and his face was as stony as the great wall. She could not have guessed his thoughts even if she had spent every second of every day of her life by his side.

"Father." She said instead, trying for the same emotionless mask. She failed miserably, but it brought a smile to his lips as he gestured for her to take a seat next to him on the bed. She did as bid.

"Did you bring your dagger?" She nodded. "Good. Never leave without it."

"Are you here to tell me of Sansa's marriage, the king's offer to make you his hand, or maybe my own pending marriage?" She asked instead of giving her usual promise to always carry her dagger with her, and she could see the surprise on her father's face as she spoke.

"You know much more than most." He said, earning himself a nervous smile.

"I met Lord Tyrion on my way to the stables. I fear he had had a little to much wine."

"Ah... I hear he is an intelligent man. What else did he tell you?"

"He said you knew better than to deny the King, and that I should too."

"Aye, Robert might be my brother of the heart, but he is a King and Kings tend to have nasty tempers. But he will keep his word. You will have a fine husband."

"What exactly did the King promise you? I know what people say about him…" She stopped, forcing herself to take a deep breath before continuing, attempting to hide her unease. "Will I have to… I know I look like aunt Lyanna…. And he loved her…"

"He gave his word never to touch you in such a manner. He was highly offended that I even dare to suggest he would."

"Then why does he want me to come? What would he gain?"

"Robert as always appreciated beauty, especially that of Northern women. I swear. I only agree because your brother is taking the Black, and I don't want to leave you here alone with Catelyn. But I promise you, I won't let him hand you off to just anyone."

"You won't have a choice. As the King deems it, so shall it be. I will make the best of it."

"You are too mature for you age, when your aunt was told she was to marry Robert she was furious. And he loved her in his own way, you do not even have a name, yet you are so willing to accept anyone."

"Septa and Lady Stark has made it very clear to me what my options in life will be if I do not find a husband. One chosen by the King would most likely be better than on who would agree to take a mere bastard on his own volition."

"I would have made a good match for you."

"Even so, it makes little difference if my husband will be bribed with money or the king's favor. Perhaps the latter will even prove better."

"You give yourself to low a worth, and that is my fault. I have let my wife speak down to you too often. I let you suffer to ease my own guilty conscious. But you should know I have already had a fair few requests for your hand. You are renowned for your beauty as much as anything else. And if your husband makes you unhappy you will always have a home in Winterfell. You are my blood. Your happiness is as important to me as your sisters'." This earned him a true smile from her as she leaned against him, taking comfort in his warmth.

"Is it true?" She asked after a moment of silence. "Sansa will marry the prince?"

"Yes, Sansa and my lady wife are most pleased with the match."

"But not you." She observed, earning herself a small but sad smile.

"She is too young. But Robert promises me a long engagement. I will expect you to help me keep an eye on her and Arya when we go to King's Landing. Bran too."

"Always."

No more than moments after her father left did Lyanna follow suit to track down her twin. Not surprisingly he was still sleeping of the previous night's festivities when she snuck into his room. Without a second of hesitation she snuck into bed with him, wrapping her arm around his sleeping form. Things were changing too fast, she would take comfort where she could find it, for she knew that no matter what would happen in the future she knew she would never feel safer than she does at her twin's side. They had entered this world together, they faced their hardships together, and somehow she had always thought they would always stay together, even when he had started talking about joining the Night watch the year before. Now it did not seem that way anymore. She would go south, she would marry a man of the King's choosing who would care little for her as long as he had the king's favor and she gave him an heir. Somehow she knew she would never feel as safe or whole again as she did at the moment. This would always be the only bed in which she had no expectations on her, where she would be truly loved. It had been the one they had shared as children to keep warm before she was deemed too old to sleep in her brother's bed. It was the one she had shared with her other half.

As the day of their departure grew closer Lyanna noticed more and more eyes on her as she moved around the castle. It was only years of experience that allowed her to slip out of Winterfell and away from prying eyes. No doubt they were trying to figure out who the King intended to wed her to. But as far as she knew the King didn't even know that himself yet so why they kept an eye on her remained a mystery. Did they think the King would let her choose? She doubted he would listen to anything she said, he had showed little interest in talking with her, instead he made her feel like a moving monument to Lyanna Stark, one he marveled at and never seemed to take his eyes of when it was in sight. Everyone noticed. The Queen especially.

It was almost mid-day by the time her twin came riding towards her, stopping only as a arrow swished in front of his horse. He raised both eyebrows as if to ask it had really been necessary to release it from her bow-sting.

"I couldn't hold it any longer." She lied with an easy smile, before looking over at the target in which the arrow had launched itself smack in the middle.

"Good shot." Her brother said, following her eyes as he swung himself off the horse. "But I don't know how much use it will be in the royal castle."

"Perhaps I should be practicing with my dagger instead so that I can stab my no doubt oafish husband-to-be before he can touch me?" She asked dryly.

Since the King's arrival to Winterfell her father had added practicing with her bow and her dagger on the list of forbidden activities, forcing her to hide the practice. Which had been made easier by the fact that he long ago learned that forbidding her to ride would be no more useful than forbidding Bran to climb. Hence she had taken to disappearing into the woods on her horse to practice in secret since the royal party had arrived. Jon and Arya being the only ones to know of her new habit. It had in fact been Jon who had brought her target into the small glen she had picked to be her training ground and had hence been able to guess her current whereabouts. He had never been able to refuse her, but, like their father, he could not quite bring himself to approve of the activity.

"I doubt oafish is the word most would use for him. There are rumors you will marry the Queen's brother. They have been talking about it all day in the castle while you have been hiding away here."

"Lord Tyrion?" She asked, her head snapping towards him in surprise. She liked him well enough. It seemed he had taken to her a great deal, and she to him. But as far as she knew neither of them had had any romantic inclination towards the other. Tyrion preferred his whoring ways, having told her countless of colorful stories while disregarding his sister's disapproving glare as he did so. While entertaining they were nothing she would ever want to be apart of personally. But she supposed their sudden friendship could be taken as such, in reality he had simply decided to, in his word, teach her the rules of the game she is being forced into before someone slits her throat in her bed. His storied and warnings would no doubt prove educational and useful in the capital. But marrying him?

"The Kingslayer." Jon corrected, sounding none too pleased. He probably would have preferred the younger brother.

"He is one of the Kingsguard." She reasoned. "They are not allowed to marry. And he is a Lannister. He will not be the one I wed."

"I asked father about it. He admitted the King had mentioned him, but nothing more."

"He is the Lannister heir." She said as if that would clear everything up, and it should. Even with the King's backing she was still a bastard and the Lannister family was the richest family in the seven kingdoms. "Now, did you ride all this way to tell me of a rumor brother?" She knew he hadn't.

"Father has ordered you and our sisters to be fitted for more suitable court gowns."

She had little interest in such things, she'd rather he had left her be, and she allowed her thoughts once again on her upcoming marriage as she released another arrow, ignoring her brother. Maybe Lord Tyrion wouldn't be too bad... physical attraction was only a small part of marriage. It certainly could be worse. One of the kitchen maids had told her of her sister's husband once. It had been enough to please her when she heard he had drunk himself to death. He was a true monster.

It wasn't until she reached for her fifth arrow that she spoke again. "Should I take a lover before I wed?" Her words surprised even her, and shocked her brother so thoroughly that he could not speak. Allowing her to continue. "Septa said a woman's first time is very painful, even if he takes care. If he does not care for me… I don't want my first man forcing himself between my legs, seeing me as nothing better than a whore's daughter."

"He will not. You a daughter of the first men. You are more beautiful than the Queen, braver than our father, and the kindest soul I have ever known. If your husband-to-be does not see that, he is blind and does not deserve you."

"Perhaps he will be, blind I mean. Maybe old and fat too."

"And perhaps he will be the Lion of the Lannisters." Her brother countered. "The most beautiful man in the seven kingdom, or so I hear. Personally I don't see it."

"He will not." She said, but it was enough to bring a small smile to her lips. "Sometimes I wish you were not my twin, then I could marry you. We would have been happy, would we not?"

"Not Robb? You would have been the Lady of Winterfell." He joked lamely. But she knew his feelings all too well. Always second to their siblings to everyone but each other.

"Not Robb." She said instead, leaning up to kiss his cheek before she hid her bow and arrow from sight and mounted her horse. Her black dire wolf faithfully following behind, as she had done since Jon had handed her to her a few months earlier, taking the albino for his own, and gifting the proper grey ones to the trueborn Starks. She much rather have her beautiful Night than any of theirs. And as she looked down at her wolf she could not help but smile.

TBC…


	3. The King's choice

The Castle was, as it has been since the arrival of the King, bustling with life and movement. After visiting the seamstress, listening to Sansa order them around as colors, designs, and pattern were chosen for all three of them. She was all too happy to let het younger sister choose for her, she didn't know the first thing about southern fashion. Arya was not as easy to please as she desperately tried to stop her sister from 'trying to make her into a lady', a phrase she spat with such venom Lyanna had to stiffen a laugh. Arya wanted to be a knight, much like Lyanna had at her age, though she dared to wager that her sister was more set in her ways that Lyanna had been. She had never had to bend before, unlike Lyanna. It was something she would have to learn if she wanted to survive in King's Landing. If she didn't she would break under the restrictions of the royal court.

Tired from her sisters' bickering Lyanna had taken Lady Stark's arrival as a blessing, as it allowed her to flee the seamstress, dresses, and petty squabbles regarding Sansa's prince. A prince she dared say, if only to her twin, would be the death of the Kingdom if he was left to rule. But Sansa seemed to see none of his faults, and perhaps Lyanna had been to quick to judge, though both Jon and Arya seemed to agree with her assessment. The younger prince and princess were however nice enough, she had seen even less of them, though the princess had joined their lessons with Septa Mordane the day before. She hadn't said a word the entire time, too shy it seemed, but Lyanna found she much preferred her to her older brother.

Walking out on the covered bridge between the armory and the great keep from where she intended to watch the boys practice in the yard she arrived to find Jon seated on the sill, one leg drawn up languidly to his chin. He was watching the action, so absorbed that he seemed unaware of her approach until his white wolf moved to meet them. Night stalked closer on wary feet as his albino giant Ghost, already larger than his litter mates, smelled her, gave her ear a careful nip, and settled back down.

Jon gave her a curious look. "Shouldn't you be with the seamstress?"

"I gave Sansa free range." She replied with a smile.

He grinned. "You are a brave woman."

"So it's been said. Who is fighting who?"

"See for yourself."

To her disappointment, it was the younger boys drilling. Bran was so heavily padded he looked as though he had belted on a featherbed, and Prince Tommen. They were huffing and puffing and hitting at each other with padded wooden swords under the watchful eye of old Ser Rodrik Cassel, the master-at-arms, a great stout keg of a man with magnificent white cheek whiskers. A dozen spectators, man and boy, were calling out encouragement, Robb's voice the loudest among them. She spotted Theon Greyjoy beside him, his black doublet emblazoned with the golden kraken of his House, a look of wry contempt on his face. Both of the combatants were staggering. Lyanna judged that they had been at it awhile.

"A shade more exhausting than needlework," Jon observed teasingly as he glanced over at her.

"A shade more fun than needlework," His twin gave back at him. Jon grinned, pulling her to his side, his arm never falling from her waist.

"I will miss you, dearest sister."

"Of course you will. We are two halves of one, but we will make do until I am widowed and can flee back to you and the North. Now, why aren't you down in the yard?" Lyanna asked him jokingly, but a soft smile had spread on her lips.

He gave her a half smile. "Bastards are not allowed to damage young princes," he said. "Any bruises they take in the practice yard must come from trueborn swords."

"Yet they want to bring another bastard with them to court and marry her off so the King has something to look at." She said dryly, all softness gone from her features.

"If it was like that father would never let you go." Jon insisted, and she nodded reluctantly, not sure she believed him, before leaning further into her brother as they watched Bran and Tommen circle each other. She wasn't sure how she would survive without him.

She had not gotten far from the training site, watching the Prince and the Lannisters, before another one fell into steps with her. This one, unlike the one whose throat she had pressed a blade against, was tall, dressed in white, with green eyes and a golden head. Looking up at him she could not help but think there might be some truth to the gossip her brother had told her. He might very well be the most beautiful man in the seven kingdoms, despite being twice her age.

"Lady Lyanna." He greeted. She would have corrected him, said that she was no Lady, but after the king had taken to refer to her as such so had all who had arrived in his company.

"Ser Jaime." She simply replied in return. "To what do I owe the honor of your company?"

"My brother has taken quite a liking to you, I thought I should see what sparked his interest."

"I am pleased to learn I have earned his good opinion." She smiled politely.

"I have never seen him taking such an interest in one he wasn't trying to bed. He is even trying to get you ready for court, giving away gossip he could sell for a pretty sum if he chose to. I believe you are the first to gain such favor from him, even our sister have difficulties getting him to share."

"Then I am all the more grateful for his friendship." She said, and she meant it. "Lord Tyrion is an interesting man."

"He is also a very valuable ally to have. As is any Lannister."

"I do not doubt it." She agreed. "You are the guards, advisors, and even wives of Kings."

"From the way you speak, I would never have guessed you to be a bastard." He commented so calmly one would think he was talking about the weather. "You speak as if you were a proper lady."

"Then perhaps I shall dumb down my vocabulary so that I do not offend your senses." She replied too calmly, too politely. He laughed.

"I meant no offence. It will aid you in King's Landing. You speak as though you belong."

"I do belong. To paraphrase your brother. 'As the king deems it, so shall it be.' He has deemed me a Stark, equal to my namesake. While he deemed you Kingslayer. I believe that put us both in our places." That wiped the smile of his lips. "Good day, Ser Jaime. I believe I have to join my sisters."

"She seemed to want to be rid of you, brother." The unmistakable voice of the Queen came behind them, and while it made her want to run, it made her twin grin.

"It would seem so, does it not?" He commented, as the Queen grew closer and Lyanna dropped into a curtsy. "It is not often a woman prefers our brother's company to mine."

The Queen ignored his comment, and simply slipped her arm though his as she turned to look Lyanna up and down. "Lady Lyanna," She finally said. "I'm afraid we have not had a chance to speak. Will you join me for a walk? That is, if your sisters can wait."

"Of course, my Queen." She replied, making the male Lannister raise his eyebrows mocking surprise.

"She is so polite to you, sister. It is rather fascinating what a title does."

Lyanna had to bite her lips from snapping something back and instead focused on the Queen when she spoke, seeming to have chosen to ignore her brother.

"I hear the heart tree of Winterfell is the most beautiful in the Seven Kingdoms. Will you show it to me?"

Days passed and with no confirmation the rumor of her pending marriage to the Lion of the Lannister died down, and with only four days left in Winterfell, Robb and their father rode out for a last hunt with the King. In the last few days Jon had begun to distance himself from the rest of the Stark family, the only one he still let in was his twin, and she made sure to spend every available minute with him. As such it was not until evening that the twins heard of little Brann's accident. One she marveled at, never had she seen her brother fall while climbing, even when she had shown him some of her favorite climbs years ago, when he was still learning. Even then he had been as limber and steadfast as a squirrel in his own tree. But despite this he had fallen, and he had not woken since. Nor did they know if he ever would again. The only thing Maester Luwin was certain of was that his legs had been crushed in the fall. They would never be as they were. Even if he lived he would never climb or walk again. He would be a cripple. And neither Lyanna nor Jon was allowed to see him, Lady Stark forbade it and it seemed their father was either unaware or simply did not have the heart to force her. Brann had always been her favorite, even among her own children. Lyanna had no doubt she would have offered the legs of any of her other children in exchange for his, and gladly given the gods the very lives of her and Jon for Brann to awake again as he was. And maybe she would let her, at least her own.

Dinner that night was a somber affair; even the King drank and ate little. Lyanna would have preferred it if he had taken his usual fill, then perhaps he would not have had the ability to think that night. Yet the Gods had not listened and the very next morning her father found her to inform her that the King had made his choice, her husband had been chosen and has agreed to the match. She was to wed Jaime Lannister of the Kingsguard.

"That is not possible." She insisted, her mind refusing to accept her father's words. "The kingsguards can not marry. He can not marry."

"They are Robert's guards. It is his choice."

"It has been that way for centuries! Taking the oath of the Kingsguard means having no children or wife."

"He is making an exception. It appears the Queen was most adamant in her brother keeping his position in the guard. And as there are no more dragons on the throne, Robert says if he wants to make exceptions to their laws he shall. He is the King."

"But surely Lord Lannister can not agree to such a match for his son." She tried again.

"Lord Tywin wants heirs and if this is the only way to get them, he will allow it. Having a Lannister as your husband-to-be will make it easier for you in King's Landing. You will have the protection of not just the King, and the house of Stark, but also the Lion's house."

"You hate Jaime Lannister, he has no honor. He broke his oath!"

"But he has his pride, he will not let anything happen to you. For your safety, I will allow it."

"And what does Ser Jaime himself say?" She asked, knowing she would not win. She would be a wolf among lions. But when her father said nothing she sighed. "Surely he has something to say?"

"I have yet to see him since Robert informed me of his choice. But he assures me, it has been accepted by both father and son."

"I am half his age, I am but a child in his eyes."

"A woman grows up faster than a man. A husband is often older than his wife. My brother was nine years Catelyn's senior. I am two."

"And Ser Jamie is how many years my senior?"

"Fifteen. He will celebrate his 31st namesday this year." He admitted. "But he is strong, he has a good sword, and will live a long life. And you will one day be the Lady of Casterly Rock."

"I would rather be a bastard of Winterfell." She said. Knowing her as he did he said nothing, only kissed the top of her head and left her sitting in her room alone with her thoughts.

Moments later her sister came rushing through the door, Lyanna did not think she had ever seen such a bright smile on her sister's lips, except perhaps when she had been informed of her own pending marriage to the Prince. Unlike Lyanna Sansa had taken the latest news of her betrothal with the greatest of joys.

"Father says you are to marry the Queen's twin brother." She said, as if she was bringing her the most wonderful news. "Would you prefer that I call you aunt or sister?"

"I am not married yet, and neither are you." She said calmly.

"Perhaps, but father assured me both weddings will happened. Yours sooner than mine."

"No doubt." She agreed dully. Sansa and the prince were still too young. She was not, and her husband-to-be certainly wasn't either.

"Both of us shall stay in King's Landing, at least until you are with child. Then mother says you will probably have to move to Casterly Rock. Septa says it is a grand home, and that you must be blessed by the old Gods to gain such a fine husband, despite the circumstances of your birth." Like her mother Sansa had never had problems pointing out her bastard status, but unlike Lady Stark Lyanna did not think she meant any ill by it. To her it was merely a fact that her mother took to repeat often.

"That remains to be seen." She disagreed quietly. But she smiled at her sister who did not seem to hear her, as she continued retelling tales of King's Landing and southern customs her mother had taught and she now deemed necessary for her older sister to learn as well.

Hence it was with great relief she saw her brother at her door an hour later, asking to have a word with his twin, alone.

**TBC…**


	4. The fear of the Unknown

Lyanna did not see her husband-to-be until early afternoon. They did not speak, but he still wore the same superior smirk on his lips as he had worn during most of her walk with the Queen. In fact he rarely wore anything else. Instead it was the King who chose to acknowledge her, and soon there after he ordered one of his other guards to take over for the Kingslayer so that he 'could escort his bride-to-be on her ride'. She rather he had not, and as soon as the King had disappeared from sight she turned to offer the Lannister his escape. One he did not take it.

"I assure you, Ser. I am a skilled rider. I often ride alone, or with my brothers or sister. I need no escort." She tried to dissuade him as they waited for the stablehands to ready their horses. She rather be alone with her thoughts, if she could not went her anger training her with Ser Rodrick.

"You find it strange that I wish to spend time with my wife-to-be?"

"No stranger than your consent to wed me." She said bluntly. It seemed to amuse him, just like everything else said around him seemed to.

"You are young, healthy, and you are very beautiful. Any man would be lucky to have you." He finally said with a nonchalance that got on her nerve. "I am also told you are intelligent, and skilled with a dagger."

"I take it your brother told you of our first encounter." She said, choosing to ignore the first part of his statement, instead thinking of the dagger she hid under her skirt.

"You were about to cut his throat open." He said, clearly amused.

"I thought he was a pickpocket, he needed to learn a lesson."

"I believe that is the first time a Lannister has been mistaken for such."

"I did not see him clearly in the dark." She defended, just as two stableboys came out, leading two horses.

"Thank you." She acknowledge, ignoring Jamie's attempt to help her up on her horse as she mounted it easily on her own, earning her a smile form the stableboy. It was the same one she had had a crush on her pre-teens, he was now married and expecting his first child. Thomas was a good man, and she dearly hoped the child would survive the coming winter. If it was to be a long one, as her father feared, she knew few northern children would.

They had gotten no more than a few paces before Jaime spoke again. "I believe it was our old Septa who once told my sister that as long as you know needle-pointing you need to know nothing else as a lady. Yet you seem to have chosen to perfect your skill with a dagger instead." It seemed they had not left behind the subject after all.

"A dagger may one day save my life, or that of my child. What use would needle-pointing be? I suppose I could stick my attacker in the eye, but I find myself preferring my dagger."

"Then your sisters knows how to use one as well?"

"Sansa would never even consider holding a dagger, and my youngest sister is only interested in swordplay and arrows. Though her lady mother is doing her best to keep her away from both. Lady Stark has however shown little interest in my upbringing, allowing my father a freer range."

They spent nearly an hour on horseback before she decided to return to Winterfell. Most of the ride had been spent in silence, finding they had little to talk about other than the little Lannister lord. However, she also found that he had few opinion of his own, a good trait in a guard, but not in a conversational partner. Though he did seem to like mocking things and people as he spoke. The only time he was remotely passionate was when they edged on the topic of battle and warfare. It seemed she would be wed to a soldier, not a conversationalist. Though his easygoing mannerisms eased some of her worries regarding their future life together. She was fairly certain she could learn to live with him, if not love him.

When they reached the outer keep of the castle she was surprised to find her father out talking to one of the horse merchants, having brought with him his favorite stablehand and one of the stableboys. At the moment they were looking at a black mare and seemed seconds away from a purchase. Unaware that her father had intended to buy one curiosity made her unmounts her own mare and make her way towards them on foot. She was not surprised to find Ser Jaime follow suit, walking no more than a step behind by the time they reached the others.

"Looks young enough, healthy. She is beautiful." The Kingslayer commented as he took in the animal, her father seemed to be in agreement. But when the enthusiastic stableboy grinned widely at them, praising the horse's intelligence as well, before the stablehand gave him a disapproving look that sent him running, Lyanna could not help but find the conversation a little too familiar for her liking. Glancing at her husband to be she mentally wondered if would be possible to teach the horse to use a dagger, then it could take over her wifely duties when she did not feel like it. After all, almost all qualities he had assigned to her had now been assigned to the mare in front of her as well. But instead of speaking her thoughts out loud she choose to agree with him.

"She is a fine horse, father."

"You think I should buy her?" When asked for her honest opinion she walked up to the horse, inspecting it more closely. It had a beautiful glossy black coat, a thick mane, strong legs, uninjured knees, and seemed both alert and observant. After a few minutes she turned to smile at her father.

"I do. She is beautiful."

"She is for you. You will need a new horse for the journey."

"We are still going?" She asked, unaware that she had even entertained the thought of delaying the journey to King's Landing until she voiced the question.

"We will be no good to Brann here." He said. "And the King needs to return."

Leaving her father to his purchase she returned to the old mare she had been riding and mounted.

"You know your horses." Jaime commented, as he came to a halt next to her, while she arranged her skirt.

"I once fancied myself in love with a stableboy." She confessed unabashed. "I think I went riding at least thrice a day just to see him, and spent more time in a stable than any respectable lady should."

"A stableboy?" He asked amused. "Not a knight or at least a squire?" He asked his smirk back in place, making her blush as they rode off.

On their last night at Winterfell Lyanna was not surprised to find herself once again sneaking into her brother's room. Nor did she feel as if she was doing anything wrong as she laid down next to him on the bed. She thought he was asleep at first, he hadn't moved when she entered the room or even when she slid under the covers. It was first when he turned to his side and looked at her that she knew differently. He looked troubled.

"You know I would do anything for you, I would break every oaths I ever took or will ever take to keep you safe."

"I know." She did. She would do the same. Their whole lives they only had each other. Oh, they had others who cared for them, but it was different. No one else understood, they were alone, only a bastard could understand what it meant to be one. Even in the house of Stark.

"I want for you to be happy. But there is nothing I can do for you anymore. So promise me you will be. I need you to promise."

"You speak as though you will never see me again." She didn't like it. "You could come with us to King's Landing. You don't have to take the Black."

"I don't have the King's good opinion or the heir of a noble house as my intended. There is no room for a bastard like me there. All I have is my sword."

"You can never leave the wall once you take your oath. What if I need you?"

"I will come running anyway."

"If someone hurts me?"

"I will give it back to them ten folded." He grinned. He had given her that promise the first time when they were five, and he had always kept it.

"And what of you? What if you need me? What if someone hurts you?"

"Then I will think of you, and I will be all better."

"Liar." She smiled. "What will I do without you?"

"You will have father, and Sansa, and Arya. They all love you. And you will have a husband to take care of you."

"He doesn't want me anymore than I do him." She scoffed. "I think he finds me amusing, but he does not care for me. I doubt he cares for anything."

"He will care for you. Lannister is many things, but he is not a fool."

"I don't want you to leave." There was a sadness in his eyes when she said it, but he just smiled and said nothing.

She didn't know what made her do it, perhaps it was the mention of Jaime, perhaps it was his eyes, or perhaps it was, as her twin would later claim, fear, but she pressed her lips against his. It was soft, sweet, innocent. He did not move so she did it again. This time he returned it, just as sweetly as she. But it did not take long before a hint of desperation made its way into the kisses. And with it, heat followed. It wasn't until her hand slipped under his shirt that he stopped. His hand stopping hers as he pushed back.

"We can't." He said, looking into her lilac eyes, so different from his own.

"We can." She insisted.

"It's wrong. You don't really want to do this. I can taste the wine on your lips. You are just afraid."

"What am I afraid of?" She asked, her hand reaching for him, caressing his cheek. He let her, even leaning into her touch. "I am not the one giving my life away without a second thought and joining the Night Watch. Most are dead within the year. Especially in the winter."

"You are afraid of the unknown. Of being alone. Of leaving Winterfell. Of becoming a Lannister. You are not doing this for the right reason, and neither am I. You don't need a safety blanket."

"I love you."

"And I love you more than anything. You are my sister, not my half-sister, but my twin. We are the same."

"I am fairly certain we are not the same." She said almost teasingly, her hand sliding down his chest, and down. And down. He stopped her.

"Stop it." He said. "You need to bleed on your wedding night. We can not do this."

"I don't trust him, I trust you. And I doubt he has never had a woman." She said, but he could hear the resignation in her voice.

"It's different for men." He said, laying down next to her and pulling her back into his arms. All the heat that had previously been between them, gone, it was as if had never been there at all. She did not fight him. She was safe in his arms.

"It always is." She muttered. He ignored it. Instead, in a purely brotherly gesture he pressed his lips to her forehead.

"Sleep, Lyanna. We have a long journey tomorrow."

**TBC…**

Ok, so I hope you won't hate me for this little Lyanna/Jon moment, it was necessary. I promise there won't be more of that kind... they don't see each other as the Lannister twins... though they are closer than normal twins & siblings. They have never even kissed before, nor will they again! And I know the Jaime/L moments are a little stiff. But they barely know each other, all she knows about him is what she has been taught and seen. Not much so far. And Jaime has little interest in anyone but his sister at this point in the plot.

Also please review! I don't know why so many only add the story to their alert lists and nothing else, I want feedback people or I will start posting slower! Reviews are like caffeine to me, and my fix is almost out!


	5. The journey begins

By the time the sun rose in the sky Lyanna was already dressed, all her belongings packed, all her farewells said. She might never come back to Winterfell, and if she did, it would never be the same. Jon would be gone, and without him it would never be home again. The other Stark children were her siblings, she loved them, but Jon was her family. He understood her, protected her, was her. Shaking the thought away she took one last look at her room and left.

After another four hours of waiting the King awoke, signaling the start of the final preparation, and another hour after that before they were finally on the move. While her insistence to ride on her new horse rather than in the safety of the carriage had brought about a roaring laughter from the king, as he compared her stubbornness to her late aunt, apparently she had once done something similar once, Lyanna did not mind as long as she would be allowed to remain by her twin's side as long as possible. Though the King did occasionally request her presence riding with him and her father until she began feigning falling behind, allowing her to fall back. It was an act she quickly became adapt at, though she soon noted that neither her father nor her intended seemed fooled. In fact they both seemed rather amused by her little acts of defiance. But as long as she got her wish she did not mind, at least until the King told Jaime to fall back with her during the third day of their journey.

"It seems you have relegated me to the back." He commented lightly from her right side.

"No doubt you appreciate being away from the King as much as I do, brother." Lord Tyrion said, riding up to ride by their side. The smile that overtook the elder Lannister's face at the sound of his brother's voice was probably the first real emotion she seen in him. Perhaps he cared for something after all.

"I thought you would have left us for a brothel by now. What are you still doing here?"

"I told you, I aim to take a piss off the wall. I will be gone tomorrow with the rest of them." She tried not to flinch at the words, but it seemed she was unsuccessful as he added. "You will see your beloved brother again. I doubt even an army would be able to keep him from going to King's Landing or Casterly Rock or wherever you will be for long." At first she didn't say anything, or look at either of the Lannister but she could feel their eyes on her. However as his words registered, she turned to look at him in surprise.

"You are not going to King's Landing?

"Afraid not. But not to worry, since you are now to be my sister you will have the protection of the entire Lannister guard in the capital. If someone as much as sully your shoes he will be killed on the spot."

"I would prefer your company to any thousand guards or trained knights." She smiled.

"I will be back for your wedding." He promised. "And if it is your will, you shall have me by your side until your first born child leaves the womb."

"You do not like children?" she asked.

"Gods, no! They are little monsters until they learn to speak properly. No use at all. And even then they might turn out like my nephew."

"Hold your tongue, or I shall remove it myself. Any child I carry will be a true wolf."

"Any child you bare shall have countries tremble, and cities empty in seconds, should he be blessed with your temper."

"I shall have you know, the King find my disposition delightful."

"Because you barely say a word in his presence unless asked, and then you keep it as short hoping he will let you leave. I, however, have seen your full glory. I have had your blade pressed against my throat, and I have seen you throw that dagger with frightening accuracy. "

"I did not intend to spar that fly." She denied, much to Tyrion's amusement.

"So you say. I am also fairly certain you can outride any rider in this company if you wish it. And all I have done was sneak up at you in the dark. Your anger must be frightening indeed. Tell me, little wolf, are you a trained assassin?"

"My father would not allow it." She said with a smile, making Tyrion turn to his brother with exaggerated curiosity.

"But would her husband? I wonder."

"If she wants anyone dead, all she has to do is ask." Jaime said with unconcerned amusement, leaving her wonder what to make of it.

"If I want someone dead, I shall be the one to kill him." She said. "If you would take a man's life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final words. And if you cannot bear to do that, then perhaps the man does not deserve to die. It is the Stark way, and the older way. I see no reason it should be different for me just because I am a woman."

"Ah, now that is an interesting way to see it." Tyrion said. "But I think this conversation is becoming a little too serious for my liking. You are from the North, my dear, tell me a tale of the wall."

"It is safe enough there now, it is still summer." She smiled. "But winter is coming, and so is the time for fear. Thousands of years ago, there was one such winter during which came a night that lasted a generation. Kings froze to death in their castles, same as the shepherds in their huts; and women smothered their babies rather than see them starve, and wept, and felt the tears freeze on their cheeks...In that darkness the White Walkers came for the first time. They descended upon Westeros from the farthest north, the polar regions of the Land of Always Winter. None knew why they came, but they killed all in their path, reanimating the dead as wights to kill the living at their command. They swept through cities and kingdoms, riding their dead horses, hunting with their packs of pale spiders big as hounds. Eventually the peoples of Westeros rallied and in a battle where the White Walkers were finally defeated and driven back into the uttermost north, with the Wall raised to bar their return. It is only this wall that is all that is keeping us safe, but it is only as strong as the men of the Night Watch. Once manned by volunteers from the noble houses, the service has fallen on hard times and now it is mostly formed of criminals and delinquents avoiding strict punishments, or high-born lords escaping scandal. May the Gods have mercy on our souls should they fail for neither your seven gods or my old ones will be able to save us. For over the millennia the knowledge gained during the Long Winter has become lost in myths and legends and we would be helpless against them and the age of the Others shall come."

"You have been listening to Old Nan stories too much." Jon said from behind her, she hadn't heard him ride up. "Or maybe not enough. You have changed it a bit, haven't you? Why? Because the Imp has told you what the Night Watch is really like? You would trust him over our father?"

"Father has never told us anything but the old stories, neither has our uncle. Don't you wonder why?"

"You were the one who told me to go." He reminded her, for once sounding the teen he was, while Tyrion gestured for his brother that they should move ahead of them, giving an illusion of privacy at least.

"I told you to get away from Winterfell, to find somewhere you weren't just our father's bastard. You are a man; you can make something of yourself despite being what we are. If I left my choice would have been a maid or a whore. You were the one who decide to follow in our uncle's footsteps in your quest for honor, not I."

"No, you are just marrying the Kingslayer." He spat. "Where is your honor?"

"Because you are my twin brother I will ignore that, this once." She said with such a coldness it made him flinch.

"Sorry. But why are you riding with them? You are not one of them yet."

"I happen to like Lord Tyrion."

"Not the other one?"

"I don't know the other one." She snapped.

The rest of the ride was quiet, and as they sat up camp for the night Lyanna found herself walking on the outskirt of the campsite, Arya walking beside her as she curiously watched the people around them move about.

"You will see knights everyday in King's Landing, you know." Lyanna teased as she noticed her sister's eyes follow two Lannister guards, their red capes blowing in the wind.

"How does it feel? Knowing you can command them to do anything and they would?"

"I can not, I am not a Lannister yet. But you dear sister can order around any of the Stark guards you wish to."

"It's not the same." She insisted. "Will Ser Jaime have to stop being a member of the Kingsguard when he marries you? Maester Luwin said the Kingsguards can't marry or father children."

"No. King Robert is making an exception to please his Queen."

"I didn't think he loved her enough for that."

"You can not talk about such things here, it is not proper."

"Proper?" She asked disbelievingly. "You never used to say such things. You sound like Sansa." She said as if it was the greatest insult possible.

"May the Gods have mercy on my soul, I hope not." She laughed. "But such words are enough for someone to chop your head off. And I quite like your head where it is."

"You are lying."

"Perhaps, but you need to be more careful. Father is no longer the highest authority around. You must think before you speak, and one does not speak anything but kind things of the King and his family. Do you understand me?"

"I wasn't being unkind." She insisted, but Lyanna recognized the resignation. "It was just an observation."

"Did Jon give you his gift?" She asked instead, knowing it would lift the girl's spirit.

"He told you about it?" She asked excitedly. "I named it Needle."

"It a good name. It suits it." She agreed.

"Have you named your dagger?"

"I have not. My dagger is no sword." She smiled.

"True." She nodded. "Will you teach me to use it?"

"I don't know how. You should ask father when we reach King's Landing. He will find someone to teach you."

"Jon said not to tell anyone." She said hesitantly.

"He probably meant your mother. And that you should not let people see it, a lady does not carry her weapons. That is what she has guards for."

"You do."

"I am not a Lady."

"The King says you are, and when you marry you will be Lady Lannister."

"Then I will have to keep it hidden, same as you."

After supper Jon came searching for her, as she had known he would. He was truly leaving. Their father said they would reach the crossway before noon the next day. She almost wished the long night would come if it meant that time would never arrive. As he sat down next to her, she spoke the first words that came to mind.

"I have honor." She didn't know why it came out, or why those words seemed so important.

"You do. I was angry. I don't like how they see the Night Watch. How they make you look at it. I want you to be proud to have a brother there."

"I will be." She promised. "Though I would prefer to have him by my side."

"It's an honor to serve on the Wall. You reap what you sow there. They won't care what I am, and I know how to use a sword as well as any lord. It's a better place for me than a King's Landing."

"I could need you there."

"You are already creating a new family. Lord Tyrion adores you."

"You will always be my favorite brother." She promised. "He can't even begin to compare."

**TBC…**


	6. The Queen's summon

On the morning of Jon's and Lord Tyrion's departure Lyanna was surprised to find the youngest Lannister waiting for her with a torch in his hand before even the first sunrays had lit the sky.

"Good morning, my lord. Will you break fast with my brother and I this morning? I fear my sisters are still sleeping."

"I fear I will be eating with my own brother. I am merely here to give you a gift before I depart, should circumstances change and delay my return to King's Landing, and miss your wedding. As you Starks seems so fond of saying "winter is coming" and I fear my journey might take longer than expected."

"And what kind of gift can you give me to buy my forgiveness for future transgressions? For I am not sure if I can forgive my new brother should he not be there to welcome me on my wedding day." She quipped.

"I could think of only one worthy of your skill and beauty." He said, grinning up at her, before handing her a small silk-wrapped gift. Hidden under the fine red silk was a dagger, more beautiful than any she had ever seen. Though it was more the hilt than the blade that captured her eyes more than the blade itself. It was as black as onyx, polished smooth, and in the darkness it seemed to almost shimmer in the light of Tyrion's torch. It called to her. She had only seen or felt anything like it before, her late aunt's broach.

"The blade is the finest Valyrian steel," Tyrion told her with a small smile, as she looked at him with wide eyes. "the hilt is dragonbone. Lannisters have only the best, my dearest sister. We are worth nothing less. Remember that."

The days that followed were quiet ones, Lyanna barely spoke to anyone. It was as if a part of her had been ripped off, she wasn't in pain exactly… it was just odd. She had heard knights talking about phantom limbs, the body would not accept what the mind already knew. The feeling that the arm was still there even though it was not. That was the closest she could think of to describe his absence. The longest she had ever been away from her twin brother was three days. That had been beaten by many days now, and while she knew it was only a few days left on the King's road, she knew it would be years before she would be home. Years before she would see her brother again.

"Lady Lyanna." The King called her name. Reluctantly the she forced herself to turn to look at him. "Your brother is doing a noble thing. The Night Watch keeps the realm safe."

"Thank you, your grace." She forced a smile.

"You do him no honor by being as you are now. I miss your laughter." She did not know she had ever heard it. "It has been easing the journey for all of us when we have heard it. Cheer up. You are to wed soon." He added pointing to Ser Jaime with his chin as he spoke. "A Lannister of all things, it will be a grand wedding. We will have in the castle, in the throne room. Maybe a tournament in honor of the wedding and your father's appointment."

"That is most kind of you." She said, though she could not bring forth the light happy tone he was looking for. It almost made her feel guilty, she could only imagine the joy Sansa would have felt at such news. The joy any proper lady would. But despite riding side by side with the King, she was not a proper lady; she was a bastard. She had imagined a small wedding, should she ever have one. The one that the king was describing had never crossed her mind and did not bring any joyous childhood fantasies to the surface as she expected he had thought it would. But she tried to give the impression of excitement for his effort. She must have failed miserably since he looked at her husband-to-be with a distasteful look in his eyes. "You deserve a honorable man, not that."

"Robert." He father interrupted before Lyanna could say anything, though she had felt her temper spark at his words. Not in defense of Jaime precisely, just anger. "Not now."

"Right." He agreed, glancing back at the woman that could have been the twin of his once intended. They had the same long wavy dark hair, he longed to draw his fingers through the dark mass, as he had once longed for hers. She had her fair skin, her cheekbones, she had even been blessed with the same dimples when she smiled, truly smiled. If she had had the same eyes the other bastard had he would have sworn it was the same woman, that she was his Lyanna. But she did not, her eyes were a familiar lilac he could not place, probably her mother's. He must have seen her when she was with his friend all those years ago without knowing who she was. He mentally shook himself back to the present and smiled apologetically at her. "He will make a good husband, I will make sure of that."

"With all due respect, your grace. I-" Lyanna said, a hint of defiance in her tone that worried her father. Whether Robert would agree or not, Lyanna had the same temper as her namesake. But as luck would have it the king had not sparked it until now, and if luck held he would disregard it as he had done Lyanna Stark's in their youth.

"Lyanna!" Her father warned, interrupting her before she could finish.

"Let her speak, Ned." The King said, but the look her father gave her made her bite her lips as she replied.

"I am curious, your grace. You claim I would have a husband worthy of my father's house, yet you seem to have no respect for the man you chose."

"He is the Kingslayer. He deserves no respect."

"He is the slayer of a mad king, your grace, one you yourself found unfit for the throne. One that burned people alive, laughing as he did so. We do not know the whole story, only the mad king and Ser Jaime knows what truly happened."

"He broke his oath."

"Yet you trust him to guard your back, and you wed his sister."

"Enough, Lyanna." This time her father's voice left no room for argument.

"I apologize, I went to far. Forgive me, your grace."

"You want to see the best in people, like Lyanna did. You did only what I know your aunt did for me. You are a good woman. Your father raised you well."

"Thank you."

"We will stop early today. I need to stretch my legs. There is a little town a little west of here. We can sleep there." He King said no more than an hour later as they reached a large field. As they uncounted their horses the King spoke again and though his eyes were not on her, but on the small creek that ran through the field, his words made it clear to whom he spoke "That creek is where I slayed the man who took your aunt. This is where I avenged her and gained my crown." He looked at her then. "I would rather have had her. You would have been my niece, and trueborn or not, you shall be treated as if you are."

Later one of the knights suggested a hunt being held in honor of the King's memorable victory, something the King had been all to keep on agreeing with. The following morning at dawn her father had rode with the King and his chosen men for the hunt, apparently the area was famed for its aurochs, leaving Lyanna with only her sisters, or rather sister, to break fast with that morning.

"I've never seen an aurochs," Sansa commented, feeding a piece of bacon to her direwolf under the table. Lady took it from her hand, as delicate as a queen. Night was far from as careful, thankfully Septa had not seen or, or perhaps he had simply written Lyanna off as a lost cause a long time ago. She had taken to ignore her most of the time a long time ago, much like Lady Stark did. She did however see Sansa's actions and sniffed in disapproval. "A noble lady does not feed dogs at her table," she said, breaking off another piece of comb and letting the honey drip down onto her bread.

"She's not a dog, she's a direwolf," Sansa pointed out as Lady licked her fingers with a rough tongue. "Anyway, Father said we could keep them with us if we want."

Septa was not appeased. "You're a good girl, Sansa, but I do vow, when it comes to that creature you're as willful as your sister Arya." She scowled. "And where is Arya this morning?"

"She wasn't hungry," Sansa said, knowing full well that their sister had probably stolen down to the kitchen hours ago and wheedled a breakfast out of some cook's boy.

"Do remind her to dress nicely today. The grey velvet, perhaps. We are all invited to ride with the queen and Princess Myrcella in the royal wheelhouse, and we must look our best."

Sansa already looked her best. She had brushed out her long auburn hair until it shone, and picked her nicest blue silks. She had been looking forward to today for more than a week. It was a great honor to ride with the queen. But as Septa reluctantly added Lyanna's name to the list of people who would be in the carriage both Lyanna and Sansa looked back at the woman in surprise.

"What? No, I can't ride with the Queen."

"You have ridden with the King, and you are marrying her brother. It seems to be enough, she requested your presence in particular last night. You will go and you will act like a lady."

"The Queen's carriage does not have any windows, I will be ill."

"You will not. Sansa, would you help your half-sister to find something suitable to wear? Her riding dresses will not do." She nodded.

Sansa knew Lyana's new, more south friendly, wardrobe better than Lyanna herself, having gladly accepted the responsibility for it at the seamstress'. Without much ado she placed a red silk dress in front of her, it was close enough in color to Lannister red to note, but not close enough to possibly offend. She was not a Lannister yet. While it was too nice for travelling in Lyanna's opinion her sister had quickly assured her it was not, not if she was travelling with the queen.

After that Sansa had went to find their youngest sister and left Lyanna to get ready in the company of two maids who travelled with them. Lyanna wished she could have gone with her if just to see how this confrontation would go, not well she expected. Just the day before Arya had come back grinning, her hair all tangled and her clothes covered in mud, clutching a raggedy bunch of purple and green flowers for Father. Sansa had been horrified, Lyanna had silently laughed, and their father had hugged and thanked the girl. Combined with the things she had gotten up to before that Lyanna almost felt sympathetic towards her sister who so tirelessly tried to impress her intended. A task she had often attempted to convince Lyanna to join her in. But Lyanna had little interest in impressing her intended.

Sir Jaime was suitably impressed, or rather amused, by her and seemed to have no great dislike towards her or their pending marriage. That was all she cared to know. She would get to know her husband in due time, it was inevitable.

When Sansa retuned, declaring their younger sister a lost cause, they made their way to the center of camp. A crowd had gathered around the queen's wheelhouse. They heard excited voices buzzing like a hive of bees. The doors had been thrown open, and the queen stood at the top of the wooden steps, smiling down at someone, speaking,

"The council does us great honor, my good lords."

"What's happening?" Lyanna asked a squire she knew, one of their father's.

"The council sent riders from King's Landing to escort us the rest of the way," he told her. "An honor guard for the king."

Anxious to see, Sansa let Lady clear a path through the crowd. Lyanna and Night followed. People moved aside hastily for the direwolves. When they got closer, Lyanna saw two knights kneeling before the queen, in armor so fine and polished that it made her blink.

One knight wore an intricate suit of white enameled scales, brilliant as a field of new-fallen snow, with silver chasings and clasps that glittered in the sun. When he removed his helm, Lyanna saw that he was an old man with hair as pale as his armor, yet he seemed strong and graceful for all that. From his shoulders hung the pure white cloak of the Kingsguard. Lyanna knew immediately who he was from their father's tales.

His companion was a man near twenty whose armor was steel plate of a deep forest-green. Cradled under one arm was an antlered helm, its magnificent rack shimmering in gold. The third man did not kneel with the others. He stood to one side, beside their horses, a gaunt grim man who watched the proceedings in silence. His face was pockmarked and beardless, with deep-set eyes and hollow cheeks. Though he was not an old man, only a few wisps of hair remained to him, sprouting above his ears, but those he had grown long as a woman's. His armor was iron-grey chainmail over layers of boiled leather, plain and unadorned, and it spoke of age and hard use. Above his right shoulder the stained leather hilt of the blade strapped to his back was visible; a two-handed great sword, too long to be worn at his side. She wondered who he was.

"The king is gone hunting, but I know he will be pleased to see you when he returns," the queen was saying to the two knights who knelt before her, but Lyanna noted that Sansa seemed to have forgotten her prince and could not take her eyes off the third man. He seemed to feel the weight of her gaze, for slowly he turned his head toward them. The two direwolves both growled, and Sansa stepped backward and bumped into someone, Sandor Clegane, his mouth twisted in a terrible mockery of a smile. "You are shaking, girl," he said, his voice rasping. "Do I frighten you so much?"

Sansa wrenched away from him, and the Hound laughed, and Lady moved between them, rumbling a warning. Sansa dropped to her knees to wrap her arms around the wolf. They were all gathered around gaping, she could feel their eyes on her, and here and there she heard muttered comments and titters of laughter.

"Wolves," a man said, and someone else said, "Seven hells, they're direwolves," and the first man said, "What are they doing in camp?" and the Hound's rasping voice replied before Lyanna could, though her arms had gone protectively around Night as she saw the men raise their swords. "The Starks use them for wet nurses,"

It was first then Sansa seemed to realize that the two stranger knights were looking at her, and Lady as well. She was tears filling her eyes and she wanted to tell them to lower their weapons. She was not alone. The Queen had seen it too, seconds later Lyanna heard the queen say, "Joffrey, go to her." And her prince was there.

"Leave her alone," Joffrey said to the knights. He stood over her, and drew her to her feet. "What is it, sweet lady? Why are you afraid? No one will hurt you. Put away your swords, all of you. The wolf is her little pet, that's all." He looked at Sandor Clegane. "And you, dog, away with you, you're scaring my betrothed."

The Hound, ever faithful, bowed and slid away quietly through the press. Sansa struggled to steady herself.

"It was not him, my sweet prince," she tried to explain. "It was the other one."

The two stranger knights exchanged a look. "Payne?" chuckled the young man in the green armor. The older man in white spoke to Sansa gently. "Often times Ser Ilyn frightens me as well, sweet lady. He has a fearsome aspect."

"As well he should." The queen had descended from the wheelhouse. The spectators parted to make way for her. "If the wicked do not fear the King's Justice, you have put the wrong man in the office."

Sansa finally found her words. "Then surely you have chosen the right one, Your Grace," she said, and a gale of laughter erupted all around her.

"Well spoken, child," said the old man in white. "As befits the daughter of Eddard Stark. I am honored to know you, however irregular the manner of our meeting. I am Ser Barristan Selmy, of the Kingsguard." He bowed.

Sansa knew the name, and curtsy. "The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard," she said, "and councilor to Robert our king and to Aerys Targaryen before him. The honor is mine, good knight. Even in the far north, the singers praise the deeds of Barristan the Bold. I am Sansa Stark, and this is my half-sister, Lyanna Snow."

The old knight was half way into his bow before his eyes caught Lyanna's and he froze. It was as if her eyes had transfixed him, and all he could do was stare. There was no mistaking those eyes, those dark lilac eyes. However the green knight stopped him from saying a word as he laughed and stepped forward.

"A true northern rose, you seem to have silenced even Sir Barristan" He said, "I see why my brother has become so captivated by you, I am Renly Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End and councilor to the king. At your service." He bowed. "My brother informs me, we are to hold your wedding to Ser Jaime Lannister at the Red-keep in a months time. He has been gifted a rare beauty."

"Sansa," the Queen interrupted, reclaiming everyone's attention "the good councilors and I must speak together until the king returns with your father. I fear we shall have to postpone your day with Myrcella. Please give your sweet younger sister my apologies. Joffrey, perhaps you would be so kind as to entertain our guest today."

"It would be my pleasure, Mother," Joffrey said very formally. He took her by the arm and led her away from the wheelhouse. Lyanna watched them go, but was unsure of what to do with herself, as they queen had only dismissed her sisters, not her. Her plight was sort lived however as the Queen called her to her side.

"Perhaps I can still claim you time, dear Lyanna, will you join us? I tire so of being surrounded by only men folk."

"You honor me, my Queen."

**TBC…**


	7. The Ninteen Skulls

What had been meant to last two nights and a day ended up being a four day long stay as Arya and her friend had managed to wound the prince and run away before nightfall the first day. Four days they stay they searched for her before she was found, though the search party had been divided into three very different groups, one that seemed to want to kill the girl for the act, made up mostly by Lannisters, the group Lyanna would soon have to call her family, then there was the family she had been born to that had worried about her and wanted her found. The amused ones who had found the whole thing rather funny, if a bit tedious as time had worn on, made up the third group. Thankfully the King seemed to have sided with the latter group, and not that of his wife. Leaving Arya no worse to wear than when found after being scolded. All was not as lucky; the King ordered Lady's death as compensation for the part Arya's missing direwolf had played in the prince's injury. Leaving a distraught Sansa, and a furious Arya.

"Stop them," Sansa pleaded with their father, "don't let them do it, please, please, it wasn't Lady, it was Nymeria, Arya did it, you can't, it wasn't Lady, don't let them hurt Lady, I'll make her be good, I promise, I promise..." She started to cry.

Their father took her in his arms and held her while she wept. He looked across the room at the King. His old friend, closer than any brother, and pleaded. "Please, Robert. For the love you bear me. For the love you bore my sister. Please."

The king looked at them for a long moment, his eyes lingering on Lyanna, then turned his eyes on his wife. "Damn you, Cersei," he said with loathing. He would do nothing.

Her father stood, gently disengaging himself from Sansa's grasp. All the weariness of the past four days evident on his face. "Do it yourself then, Robert," he said in a voice cold and sharp as steel. "At least have the courage to do it yourself."

The King gave him a flat look, dead eyes, and left without a word, his footsteps heavy as lead. Silence filled the hall.

"Where is the direwolf?" The Queen asked when her husband was gone. Beside her, Prince Joffrey was smiling.

"The beast is chained up outside the gatehouse, Your Grace," Ser Barristan Selmy answered reluctantly.

"Send for Ilyn Payne."

"No, if it must be done, I will do it."

The Queen regarded him suspiciously. "You, Stark? Is this some trick? Why would you do such a thing?"

"I believe it is the old way." Lyanna heard Ser Jaime say, speaking for the first time since she had entered with her father. He was looking at her, a curious look on his face. At least until his sister drew his attention.

"The old way?"

"Well, I would assume." He said, his usual light tone back. "It wasn't explained on how to adapt it to animals or when the man who gave the order refused to carry it out himself. But as his hand I would assume…"

Surprisingly it was Sansa who took word and finished the explanation, her tone dull and lifeless. "She is of the north. She deserves better than a butcher."

No more than eight days later did they ride into King's Landing and through the towering bronze doors of the Red Keep. Lyanna was tired, sore, and irritable as they did so, and she feared no member of her family was different. Ever since Lady's death, Sansa's lies in regards to the events that led up to it, and Arya's fight with the prince, none had been very pleasant company. That the Grand Maester Pycelle of the Small council wanted to convene an urgent meeting where the honor of the Hand's presence was requested as soon as they arrived, forcing their father to send his daughters ahead without him, did not help matters.

Their new home, the tower of the hand, was richly furnished. Myrish carpets covered the floor instead of rushes, and in one corner a hundred fabulous beasts cavorted in bright paints on a carved screen from the Summer Isles. The walls were hung with tapestries from Norvos and Qohor and Lys, and a pair of Valyrian sphinxes flanked the door, eyes of polished garnet smoldering in black marble faces. But by the time they reached it Lyanna did not care. She simply wanted to get away from her sisters' bickering; it made her think longingly of her silent and comforting twin somewhere on top of the wall. The thought did not help her mood improve. She could only hope sleep would.

When a smiling Septa woke her up the following morning Lyanna rose from her bed with a hesitance she had not felt for years. Something that made her old septa smile at her could not be good. When mountains of different fabrics, in every imaginable color, greeted her she knew she had been right.

"What is this?"

"The Queen has sent her own seamstress to see to your wedding gown. " Septa preened. "She understands how hectic things are for your lord father. You should follow after her example, you and your half-sisters, and leave this business with lady Sansa's wolf behind you." Lady Sansa, always lady. Arya rarely got a tittle before her name, and the only title Lyanna got was 'miss Snow' when the woman was unusually displeased with her.

"How kind of her." She replied drily.

"Do not even think of refusing, it would be an insult to the crown." She warned sharply, as if reading her thoughts.

"I had no such inclinations." She lied.

"Good, it will be a grand celebration." Septa said, suddenly almost dreamy, "I imagine the Queen sees it as a trail run for Lady Sansa's and Prince Joffrey's wedding. Your dress must of course be in the color of your lord father's house but-"

"Septa Mordane, as much appreciated as your advice is, I feel you are much more needed with my sister. Sansa is still much upset, as you know, and I worry."

"Of course, miss Snow." She replied coldly before leaving the room, knowing she had been dismissed and being non-too-pleased about it. Though Lyanna imagined it was the fabrics more than Lyanna's company that had made the woman want to stay. Never had she seen such color or felt such fine textures, and Septa was far more interested in such than Lyanna.

"I truly detest that woman, though I fear she detests me even more." She thought out loud as the door closed, earning a soft giggle from one of the maids. She immediately took a liking to her and spent much of the fitting asking questions about the city and life in the Red Keep.

While the arrangements for her wedding seemed to move flawlessly Lyanna saw little of both her lord father, and of her intended, in the coming days. In fact she last saw Ser Jaime the night Lady been killed. Hence when she found herself in much the same position with him as she had with his brother as she went her dagger sailing next to his head and inserting itself in the doorframe all she could do was stare in horror.

"And what pray tell have I done to offend my intended so that she would try to kill me?" He asked, with his usual undertone of amusement, as he tore the dagger out from the doorframe. "Valerian steel, a good weapon." He commented, looking it over before handing it back to her.

"It was a gift from Lord Tyrion. In case he is late for the wedding. What brings you to the Hand's tower?"

"Why, I hear that you have been kept busy by my sister. I thought I would save you for today before she comes up with more useless tasks for you to preform. I fear the King is giving her too little to occupy her time."

"And how, Ser, do you intend to save me from the whims of the Queen?"

"I hoped my presence would be enough, I am a member of the Kingsguard."

"I am afraid it may not discourage them, they have become much too brave. I dare say I nearly frightened the seamstress to death when she found a dagger strapped to my calf the first day. Now, however, nothing I do or say seems to even make them falter in their tasks. They have grown as used to my scare tactics as my old septa. Throwing my dagger was my last line of defense. It usually makes her leave to complain to my father, I hoped it would merely scare the Queen's messengers away. I fear I shall be known as the Mad Lannister by the end of our wedding, for your sister is slowly driving me to insanity." She informed him with a smile.

"Then for the sake of your sanity I shall keep you safe, if only for today." He promised. "Perhaps I may show you the King's castle?" She looked at him a few seconds without saying a word.

"Will you show me the dragon skulls?

"Not the gardens? They are quite popular with the ladies of the court."

"No, the skulls. I would imagine them quite beautiful."

"Beautiful?" He echoed, sounding somewhat intrigued. "I suppose that is one way to describe them, most would use the word frightening. The mad King was quite fond of them."

"I have always been fascinated by dragons, my brother Brann is as well. Now that he has woken I feel I have to see them and write to him about it." She smiled.

"Yes, I heard the good news." Jaime admitted. "Does he still not remember what happened?"

"He does not. But I fear his lady mother is not giving up as easily. She has never been able to find fault in her children and will want to lay it at someone else's feet. I pity her target, she has quite the temper at times. If it was not for our father I fear my brother and I would always have been blamed for their indecisions. I imagine she is on a warpath in Winterfell."

Lyanna was surprised to find the sculls hidden away deep in a dank cellar under the castle with no light to aluminate their beauty except the torch Jaime had brought, and which she quickly took from him as she moved closer to explore them closer. They were not frightening at all, they were more than beautiful, they were perfection, and she could not phantom why they were showed away in such a place.

There were nineteen skulls, all in all. The oldest was more than three thousand years old; the youngest a mere century and a half. The most recent were also the smallest; a matched pair no bigger than mastiffs skulls, and oddly misshapen, all that remained of the last two hatchlings born on Dragonstone. They were the last of the Targaryen dragons, perhaps the last dragons anywhere, and they had not lived very long.

From there the skulls ranged upward in size to the three great monsters of song and story, the dragons that Aegon Targaryen and his sisters had unleashed on the Seven Kingdoms of old. The singers had given them the names of gods: Balerion, Meraxes, Vhaghar. Tyrion had stood between their gaping jaws, wordless and awed. You could have ridden a horse down Vhaghar's gullet, although you would not have ridden it out again. Meraxes was even bigger. And the greatest of them, Balerion, the Black Dread, could have swallowed an aurochs whole, or even one of the hairy mammoths said to roam the cold wastes beyond the Port of Ibben.

Lyanna could only stare at Balerion's huge, empty-eyed skull, trying to grasp the size of the living animal, to imagine how it must have looked when it spread its great black wings and swept across the skies, breathing fire.

King Loren of the Rock had tried to stand against the fire when he joined with King Mern of the Reach to oppose the Targaryen conquest. That was close on three hundred years ago, when the Seven Kingdoms were kingdoms, and not mere provinces of a greater realm. Between them, the Two Kings had six hundred banners flying, five thousand mounted knights, and ten times as many freeriders and men-at-arms. Aegon Dragonlord had perhaps a fifth that number, the chroniclers said, and most of those were conscripts from the ranks of the last king he had slain, their loyalties uncertain.

The hosts met on the broad plains of the Reach, amidst golden fields of wheat ripe for harvest. When the Two Kings charged, the Targaryen army shivered and shattered and began to run. For a few moments, the chroniclers wrote, the conquest was at an end... but only for those few moments, before Aegon Targaryen and his sisters joined the battle.

It was the only time that Vhaghar, Meraxes, and Balerion were all unleashed at once. The singers called it the Field of Fire. Near four thousand men had burned that day, among them King Mern of the Reach.

Biting her lower lip in excitement Lyanna thrust the torch into the mouth of one of the larger skulls and marveled as the shadows leap and dance on the wall behind her. The teeth were long, curving knives of black diamond. The flame of the torch was nothing to them; they had bathed in the heat of far greater fires. When she had moved away, Lyanna could have sworn that the beast's empty eye sockets had watched her. It made her feel safe. She was strange that way. Jon had told her it was foolish when she claimed their mother might be of the dragon bloodline when they were younger, since the thought of dragons and fire had always been comforting to her. She had even sworn that fire couldn't touch her. She had also attempted to prove it to Jon once as a child, it was the only time her twin had hit her, shaking her as he yelled. She had never touched fire again. Not after she had seen her brother take it up on himself to prove to her how dangerous it was by putting his hand over the flame after she had done so. He hadn't been able to use the hand for week, he still wore the scars, all to prove to her that it had been a fluke, that it could burn her, and to make her promise never to do so again.

His action had quickly crushed any fantasy she had of being a descendent of the Dragon. She and Jon were twins, they were the same, and if he could not touch it, then they were not of the dragon bloodline. But it had not lessened her fascination with the creatures, or stop her from spend hours staring into fire when she was thinking, looking for her answer in the flames.

"I dare say you are not disappointed" the ever-amused voice of her intended said form the dark shadows, making her blush. In truth she had completely forgotten about his presence. She, however, could not school her expression, despite her effort, as she turned to look at him with the widest grin he had ever seen.

"Why would the King hide these? They are far more beautiful than any jewel or adornment I have ever seen."

"They are a the relics of a dead dynasty."

"Then he should change how people view them and make them his trophies instead. It should be a crime to have them hidden down here." She added, unconsciously tracing the jaw of one of the skulls with her hands as she spoke.

**TBC…**


	8. The attention of a Prince

It was hard for Lyanna to accept the mild summer evenings of King's Landing, even during high summer one did not have a feast outside in Winterfell, the weather would simply not allow it. Yet even as summer's end was upon King's Landing there was not as much as a chill in the air as she sat down for the evening feast in the royal garden next to her betrothed. With no more than three days of warning the King had declared his intention to have a feast in honor of the betrothal, or rather in Lyanna's as the king seemed to have little interest in Jaime himself. So surrounded by flowers she had never seen but in books, and courtiers with false smiles and politeness Lyanna experienced her first royal feast held in he honor. She could not claim she felt either honored or pleased by the King's actions. She might have been a bastard in Winterfell, but never had she felt so looked down upon as she was seated just below the King with Ser Jaime by her side.

"Ignore them." When she heard Jaime's softly spoken words by her ear she nearly jumped in surprise. Nearly. Instead she turned to look at him, her confusion evident. "Ignore them. It is what I do. These courtiers are nothing buts sniveling fools with delusions of grandeur because the King allows them to watching him drink himself into an early grave. With such short notice there is no one here worth mentioning with a very few exceptions."

Lyanna said nothing only looked at him curiously. She could not understand him, since he had came to save her from his sister a week before he had come to see her every day yet she was no closer to understand him then she had in Winterfell, perhaps even less. For he was not the easygoing man she had first thought. But she could not say what or who he was either. Mentally chastising herself for allowing her thoughts to run away with her she offered a small smile in gratitude ash she noticed him waiting for a response before returning to the meal in front of her.

As the plates were removed and the music changed more and more people began to dance. At first Lyanna watched curiously, wondering how the dances would differ from those she had been forced to learn in Winterfell, but was surprised to find few differences and was rather confident when her intended asked her to join him. By the time the evening ended she had danced with Jaime, her lord father, and even her sister's intended prince.

Her opinion if Joffery had been low since the moment she had first seen his arrogant face, looking at her home with distaste. Though she had not given him much thought again until Tyrion had told her of the prince's pending marriage to her sister, but even then he had been overshadowed by the news of her own engagement. She had however truly wondered what her sister saw in him after she watched him during the episode with Arya on the King's road. Now for the first time she could see some of the appeal His looks were promising, he was already tall and lean like his uncle, with the Lannister hair and eyes. A golden lion, Sansa had called him, and it appeared, when he wanted to, he had potential to be quite charming. But in truth it was not the young prince she saw when she looked at him as they had danced, instead she was trying to imagine what Jaime had looked like at that age, only two years younger than herself. While both blond, green-eyes, and arrogant she found she could not.

Never the less, the prince's attention had not proven worth it when they returned to the hand's tower and Sansa's barely held temper let loose, accusing Lyanna of trying to steal her prince from her. Arya's active defense of her and her pikes regarding the prince's age and qualities compared to Jaime had not made matters easier, instead they heightened the tension in their home further. And no matter how many assurances Lyanna gave the eldest Stark girl she did not seem able to appease her. Though Lyanna suspected it had more to do with the prince's lack of attention in Sansa than his brief attention to Lyanna. Lyanna was simply an easy outlet for her pre-teen sister.

Taking a leaf from her sister's book the next day Lyanna found herself wandering the halls of the Red Keep by with only her dagger and Night for company. She was half mind to took for the prince and plead with him to go see her sister, if only to ease the tension the day before. She could have cut it with a butter knife. Instead she simply enjoyed the silence as she unconsciously walked into the private quarters of the royal family. A fact she did not know until she heard the unmistakable voices of the Queen and her twin brother. She was half turned to disappear the way she had come when she heard her sister's name mentioned in the conversation.

"…marry her half-sister instead." The Queen said, clearly aggravated.

"A bastard queen, now that would be something for the bards." Jaime quipped behind the closed doors, seeming to find his sister's aggravation more amusing than worrisome.

"Don't even jest about it. My son will not wed Eddard Stark's bastard, it is bad enough that Robert would have him to marry his trueborn child. At least she takes after her mother's side, you can barely see the north in her and I won't have to worry about my husband taking her to bed. I swear the girl is as dangerous as her aunt, it's only Robert's friendship with her father that is stopping him from having me killed and wed her himself. And now Joffery has decided he wants her."

"I have no intention of exchanging wives with my nephew. Nor share my wife with the king. I already have to share you with your drunken fool of a husband." He said. "And I highly doubt either girl has any desire to bed or wed the King. Lyanna seems to have no aspiration on power at all; I doubt she has a devious bone in her body. Too much like her father, all about honor. I don't know how I am to keep her alive once I wed her."

"I hear she is quite skilled with that dagger she always carries with her." The tone was dismissive, but Lyanna could have sworn she heard some pleasure in it as well.

"She is. She has almost killed both Tyrion and myself with it."

"You sound almost proud, brother. Are you actually falling for your intended bride?"

"Hardly." He scoffed. "But I rather have a wife who can defend herself then depend on others. I think I could have done much worse than Lyanna."

"Yes, our brother says the same. He seems quite besotted with her. I tried to convince Robert to have her marry him instead. He wouldn't hear of it." Jaime laughed.

"I should hope not, the poor girl is as innocent as they come. I doubt she has even been kissed and we all know our brother's apatite."

"Perhaps she is not a chaste as she appears. Not many women are. I hear she likes to watch the knights and guards train."

"Unlike you, dear sister, she is watching them for their skill with the sword, the metal kind." He added, hastily with a laugh as if he had seen something Lyanna had not. "Ser Barristan says she actually gives descent advice if only they would swallow their pride and listen."

"I was unaware you took such an interest in her." The Queen commented and Lyanna could practically see her eyes narrow in displeasure.

"I am not the only one." He dismissed her anger. "The spider and Ser Barristan are both keeping an extremely close eye on her. I am curious as to why. Why do you think I have gone to see her so often? Besides it seems to both please and displease your husband at the same time. It is quite entertaining to watch. I don't think I have held something like this over him for quite some time."

His reasons for seeing her gave an unexpected stab in her stomach before it gave way to anger, at herself. She had not even suspected an ulterior motive for his sudden visits. She had thought him curious, and that he perhaps had come to enjoy her company. He had seemed to as he would often prolonging the walks by telling entertaining stories about courtiers they passed, often with the same dry humor his brother told his stories, seeming to enjoy her laughter and retorts. She had taken as a sure sign. It was not a mistake she would make again. She needed to learn the ways of this city. Perhaps it was time she took Lord Tyrion's advice and trust only those whose motivation she understood, and only to the extent in which helping her would also serve them. She had called him cynic when he gave it, and he had bluntly informed her that it was the way of the world. Perhaps he was right. But then, what motivated her husband-to-be? The Queen was fairly easy, Lyanna held the King's interest and was therefore a threat, her motivation was power and fear of loosing it. Jaime seemed to have little interest in it. He was a member of the Kingsguard yet seemed to care little for the king. He had even broken the oath before and killed the mad king, but why? His family? A sense of justice? Why did he not kill King Robert? She knew he held no care or respect for the king… She simply did not know.

Her mind running away with her she departed the way she had come, Night silently trailing behind her. As she passed the training yard and her eyes caught Ser Barristan's she could not help but smile in remembrance of Jaime's words. She had known the old knight thought so highly of her, it was a great honor indeed.

"My lady." He greeted. "I was on my way to refresh my archery skills. Perhaps you would honor me with a friendly competition? Jory Cassel tells me he has seen few possessing your skill with a bow."

"Jory told you that?" She asked surprised. While it was no great secret, she was still surprised the head of her father's guard would tell stories about her.

"I confess I made some inquiries when you seemed apt at finding faults among the members of the guard while training. You will forgive an old man his prying."

"I have not touched a sword for many years, I learned by watching my brothers." She felt it prudent to confess.

"And by dodging smaller blades no doubt." He smiled.

"Perhaps." She offered, smiling up at him. Perhaps she should have taken more care at hiding her dagger from the Queen's people. All of King's Landing seemed to know about it. "I shall be glad to accept your challenge."

Watching Ser Barristan intentionally miss the center of the target for the second time Lyanna sighed loudly and theatrically. "I fear for the fate of the king if the captain of his guard would fain a bad aim for the sake of pleasing a bastard. But you make me no honor, ser. I would much prefer to loose against your best, than win without the honor of your seeing your true talent."

The almost embarrassed smile that swept over his aged face at her words made him look almost young again. "I apologize, my lady, perhaps we can start again?"

"I would prefer it." She assured him before pulling her own arrow from the quiver by her feet. "May I perhaps ask a question? If you rather not answer, I will understand."

"You may ask."

"Many a time I have heard the story of my late aunt's abduction. But I was hoping go hear it from someone who knew prince Rhaegar personally. I am curious as to why he took her."

"I can not explain the Prince's actions, all I can say is that Prince Rhaegar loved his Lady Lyanna. He spent much of the war with her in the Tower of Joy, and thousands lost their lives for it. He did as well."

"He loved her?" Lyanna asked surprised as she lowered her bow and stepped back. Her arrow had sailed dead center. A good shot, though not particularly difficult. "And what did she feel for him?"

"I do not know. But he was handsome, a prince, and she was young. But I dare say she went willing."

"King Robert says he stole her in the night and raped her."

"No." The old knight said with absolute certainty. "The prince was a good man. He was well loved. He excelled at anything he put his mind to. He would have made a good king."

"Yet he risked it all and lost."

"Winning and loosing is in the eye of the beholder. I doubt the prince would have done anything different, given a choice between never having his love, or having her only for a short time."

**TBC…**


	9. The Wedding

Lyanna stared at her reflection. She dressed of deep navy blue silk and Myrish lace decorated with an intricate pattern embroidered on the sleeves. She looked the role of a true, highborn, lady. The king had promised a wedding worthy of his niece and he was living up to his word. She looked like a royalty dressed in her gown and maiden cloak in the Stark colors of grey and white. She barely recognized herself, and she did not seem to be the only one. When Sansa had seen her in the finished gown she had expected her gush and praise it, but all she had done was stare. All anger her sisters had had felt seemed to have dissolved over night after that one feast, she wasn't sure what their father had done, but she was grateful for it. Though she did admitting have come suspicions, at least in regards to Arya. Her youngest sister too had only been able to stare when she saw her on her wedding day, only their lord father had seemed able to speak when he saw her.

"A bride worthy of remembrance." He smiled, he had seemed like he had wanted to say something else but he had held his tongue as he offered her his arm ready to guide her to her Lannister lion.

He looked the role of gallant knight to perfection where he stood in his doublet of dusky rose, beneath a cloak of deep crimson velvet blazoned with the golden lion of the Lannisters.

She did not feel anything as the seven vows were made, the seven blessings invoked, and the seven promises exchanged. These were not her gods, she was of the old faith yet there had never been any question as to which ceremony would be held. Not once. And for the first time since this engagement was decided she felt the unfairness she had not allowed herself to feel before.

When the wedding song had been sung and the challenge had gone unanswered, it was time for the exchange of cloaks. Jaime shifted his weight to accept the folded bride's cloak from his father and shook it out with a flourish as her father removed her maiden cloak tenderly, in absence of a mother. Lyanna distantly noted that Jaime smiled as he draped her in the crimson-and-gold cloak and leaned close to fasten it at her throat. And that easily she passed from her father's protection to her husband's. But who will protect her from the Lannisters?

"With this kiss I pledge my love!" Jaime declared in ringing tones. And when Lyanna echoed the words he pulled her close and kissed her long and deep. After which the High Septon solemnly declared Jaime of the Houses Lannister and Lyanna of House Stark to be one flesh, one heart, one soul. She did not feel any different, the kiss they had shared meant nothing, not to him, and not to her. Yet it had made her a lady, Lady Lyanna Lannister, and the vows would hold, her honor would allow nothing less, on her part at least.

When the wedding feast ended Lyanna dutifully followed her new husband up to their new chambers, no longer was her home in the tower of the Hand, it was with her husband. Her Lannister husband. He had been kind and gentle with her all day, she did not trust it, as the door closed behind them, or as his hand begun to undress her, but she would allow it. It was her wifely duty.

"You are shaking." He observed quietly, the usual amusement surprisingly absent from his voice. "Are you cold or frightened?" She didn't answer. "I will be gentle, I have no intention of make you fear my passions, wife. I want you to enjoy them."

'As my lord husband wishes.' The words were almost out of her mouth before she stopped herself, it sounded wrong. She heeded her father's wishes, but never had she been subservient to anyone. Steeling herself she made herself look at him in the eyes. He was watching her with an unreadable expression, but she saw the surprise flash in her eyes as she pressed her lips against his.

Her touch was soft, teasing in its inexperience, but as her touches grow more certain, more heated, Jaime found himself wanting to watch her. She seemed intent on her task, but while searching her face he saw the distant expression in her eyes, her mind was somewhere else. It was not him she was looking at.

"Will you not look at me?" He asked softly, before almost teasingly added. "Who are you thinking of? Your stableboy?" She smiled.

"No, I'm trying to remember what to do." She confessed.

"Someone told you what to do?" He sounded more curious now, as he once again allowed his fingers to caress her, getting to know her. She looked at his hesitantly as if to decide what do say, then spoke.

"I was ten, one of my father's knight told me all bastards' mothers were whores, and all bastard girls would become whores in turn. The next day I snuck out of the castle and to the brothel on the other side of the wall. Father was furious. But I did see some of the things the women there did… when I asked my old septa about what the women had been doing she told me, she also said it was painful, especially the first time, that there was no pleasure for the woman. But I had seen some who seemed to enjoy it. That I remember. If I can remember what they did then…" She trailed of, surprised to once again find her husband's lips on hers.

"I will teach you." He promised. "But tonight, all you have to do is feel."

When Lyanna awoke the next morning she was sore, the night before there had only been a stab of pain as he entered her but it had eased fairly quickly, as he had promised it would. After that she had thought that would be it,she had even come to enjoy his touch. But as she woke and moved the pain returned ten folded, without the need and passion to smother it, making her wish she had never woken up, and from the slightly amused smile on her husband's face he seemed to know it. Yet kissing her brow he informed her that his father would want them to break fast with him this morning, and she forced herself to move.

The betrothal and the wedding preparations had been made with frightening speed, as such it has been with no more than three days to spare to the wedding Lyanna had found herself introduced to Lord Tywin Lannister for the first time. While he initially had been fairly uninterested as they were introduced, seeming to look at her as a breeding mare for his son than anything else. But when their eyes met something had sparked his interest. Her husband had said it was no doubt the defiance that never seemed to leave her eyes when she felt under attack or scrutiny, but Lyanna doubted it. Something about her eyes had silenced both Ser Barristan and Lord Varys when they had met her too. She was certain it had something to do with her mother, after all her brother had their father's eyes, so her dark lilac ones must have come from somewhere different and it seemed to be enough to shock even the most powerful of men in the realm. But who had she been? Her mother? Lord Tywin had treated her with utmost courtesy ever since, Ser Barristan always had a kind word to say, and the Spider always had his little birds watching her, or so Barristan had cautioned her.

"Jaime." Tywin greeted as they entered the hall, food already adorning the table, and on Lord Tywin's and the queen's own plates. "And the new Lady Lannister. Come, join us." He gestured to the table and Lyanna was embarrassed to find herself bite back a yelp of pain as she tried to walk normally. She could ride a horse for a month without any pain, yet it seemed she could not be with her husband once? She refused to show it as she forced herself to curtsy. But the Queen seemed to have noticed the stiff movement, and unlike her father, if he had seen it, she did not fully ignore it. She seemed almost offended by it, though the emotion was gone so quickly Lyanna thought she might have imagined it.

"Lord Tywin. My Queen."

"Please, you are now my sister." The Queen reminded. "Call me such. Or at least call me by my name."

"You are too kind sister." Jaime said, seeming amused by his sister's forced sweetness.

"You honor me, Cersei."

"Good." Tywin said. "Now, I am afraid I will have to cut my visit short and return to Casterly Rock, some unsuspected news is forcing me to return early. I beg your forgiveness, my lady Lyanna. I would much have liked to make your acquaintance better."

"I will be sad to see you go, my lord." She replied. "I hope everything is well? Does it concern Lord Tyrion? He was expected back here some days ago, I admit I am a little concerned not having heard from him, even if he warned me he might be late before we parted ways."

She was slightly taken aback by the look of pure loathing that flashed on Tywin's face as the mentioning of his youngest, though he quickly hid it, quicker than Cersei ever been able to hide her flashes of undesired emotions.

"I am sure Tyrion is in good health. I know he is sad to have missed the wedding. This is another matter. Do not worry."

"I shall try, my lord." She said, though her eyes watched him quizzing as she made a decision. "If I may be so bold, could I ask to speak with you in private before you leave?"

"Of course." He said, though he looked as surprised at the others in the room at her words. "Perhaps you would join me for a stroll after you have eaten?"

She mentally winced at the idea of walking around, but her face showed nothing but a pleasant smile as she agreed.

As she walked next to her husband's father she could not help but look at him and, as she had done with Joffery, looked for her husband in him. He was tall, slender and broad-shouldered, his head was clean-shaven but his side-whiskers were the same golden blond that all Lannisters seemed to possess. He was a handsome man for his age and she could suddenly imagine Jaime at the same age, giving away their daughter on her wedding. Would she have the same golden hair, or would her Stark features defeat those of the Lannisters, she wondered. She did not know which she would prefer… either would be fine.

"What do you wish to talk with me about?"

"My eyes, my lord." She said, watching him carefully. He showed nothing.

"Your eyes?"

"All my life people have reacted and commented on my likeness to my aunt, yet since I came to King's Landing you are the third to react to my eyes. Eyes no one have ever seemed to notice before, eyes I imagine must be my mother's."

"I was merely taken aback by the color, I expected grey eyes. As I imagine you would imagine green on a born Lannister."

"Forgive me, but I do not believe you. Since I arrived there are three who have followed my every move in this city. The same three have at one time been shocked silent by eyes. You, Lord Varys, and Ser Barristan. Lord Varys I would have dismissed, based on Lord Tyrion's tales, but Ser Barritan's, and your own, reaction to me I can not."

"What are you asking, child?"

"Do you know who my mother is?"

"I have my suspicions. But I do not know."

"Will you share them?"

"Do not worry yourself with such matters anymore. You are now my daughter."

"Which only makes me wonder more why I made the leap from broodmare to daughter when you saw my eyes. Who is my mother?"

"You are asking the wrong question." Tywin finally told her, though he seemed even more curious now as he took her in. "My daughter said you were willful, my son that you had more sense than most, but I think we have only seen the surface of you, Lyanna. If I am correct, you are safer not knowing, for now. But you better keep that dagger with you at all times."

**TBC…**

**Now off you go! Give me my review fix! It's Sunday! I need it!**


	10. The Lady's favor

By the time Lyanna returned from her talk with Lord Tyrion she was surprised to find the queen waiting for her, looking none too pleased by the delay she had unknowingly caused. In truth Lyanna had forgotten about the tourney, and the parade that would be held that day with the knights presenting themselves to the lord holding the tournament, or in this case the King, his hand, and a representative of the Lannisters, in front of the gathered crowed, and asking for the favors of the noble ladies gathered. Septa had explained the event to them with an almost wistful expression once the tournament first was announced. Should the lady asked be flattered by the request, or secretly hopes that the Knight will win the contest, she will grant an item of clothing or a piece of jewelry to the Knight, which he will carry with him throughout the tournament. The more intimate the token the luckier it is believed to be and the higher the Knight can consider himself in the Lady's esteem. The level of the Knights success in the games would later determine how lucky the lady is for future tournaments. When Arya heard this she had scoffed at the custom and Septa had looked almost offended before she continued her explanation. Apparently it requires great bravery on the part of the beautiful Ladies who are customarily asked to give their favor to an embarrassing number of Knights as it is usually most difficult to pick the one Knight, for they was allowed to give their favor only once, but also because of the difficult task to choose how personal the token should be while a multitude of peasants and townsfolk throw lewd remarks and whistles. The latter had been added with distaste.

Sansa had gotten an almost wistful expression at the prospect of this happening to her, Arya had declared she would never give one, that is was foolish, and Lyanna had silently agreed that it was a ridicules custom. As so Lyanna had had no desire to go to this particular event, but, as her husband had explained, as the tournament was held in honor of the new hand, her father, and the joining of the Lannister and Stark houses her presence was expected. Especially since he was to partake in the tourney. And pegged as one of the favorites.

Perhaps his wording should have warned her, but as her husband rode up to her and requested her favor she had, much to his amusement, stared dumbly at him a good few seconds. The thought that he, or any other, would ask for her favor had never crossed her mind. Sansa? Certainly. But her? She was a bastard, that in itself would probably bring bad luck. Jaime laughed.

"Am I to understand I am being rejected?" He asked, all mirth, as he looked as his stunned wife. She really was quite lovely with her, at times, almost childlike innocence when it came to matters of court life. Unlike his sister Lyanna never welded her beauty as a weapon, in fact she seemed to think it held little consequence. His question made her glare at him, which only amused him further, before she took off the necklace she had worn and tried to handed it to him. He refused to accept, instead moving closer, clearly meaning for her to place it around his neck. She looked so vexed he almost leaned forward to press his lips against hers when she gave in. But rather than a sense of propriety holding him back it was the thought itself that shocked him so thoroughly that he fell back on the expected words and movements before he rode back to join the other knights. When he removed his armor later he did not fail to note that the necklace she had given him was the very same he had gifted her that same morning, "most priced possession" indeed. She might as well have given him the dirt underneath her shoes, not that any but him would be the wiser. It was enough to make him laugh a full-blown laughter that shook his entire body. She was proving more interesting by the day, his lady wife.

After the event Lyanna rode back into the city with her father and sisters, it seemed the queen had had little inclination to wait for her a second time and as she was talking with her father. During the ride back Sansa would not stop gushing over the shining armor, the great chargers caparisoned in silver and gold, the shouts of the crowd, the banners snapping in the wind... and the knights themselves, of course, the knights most of all. Which had led them to the subject of her new brother. That upset Lyanna more than it should, she did not know why. Perhaps it was simply an easy way to vent her irritation.

"Ser Jaime is less of a brother to you than Jon is, yet him you always refer to as "half", even I, on occasion, am referred to as half-sister by you. But not my husband? He is your brother?"

"I-" Sansa was shocked, never before had Lyanna protested the distinction between her, and Jon, and their other siblings. Only Arya had done so on a regular basis. She was lost for words.

"Why? Because he has a golden armor? Because he is rich? Or perhaps because he, unlike us, is not a bastard?"

"I didn't mean it like that!" She finally protested, just as his father cautiously said Lyanna's name. She ignored them both and turned to look out the window. When they stopped in front of the Lannister home in the capital Lyanna only stared at it in surprise. She hadn't even considered that they would not be taking her back home with them. But this was her home now, yet…

"I need to come and fetch Night. And Ivory." She added thinking of her beautiful mare.

"I will have them sent over."

"Night won't go with them, if she bites anyone…" She trailed off, she didn't need to say more. All remembered the fate of the two other direwolves.

"I can take them." Arya offered, when their father hesitated. "Night would listen to me, and it is not far."

"She would." Lyanna agreed, wishing she wouldn't have had to as she stepped out of the carriage after her good-byes.

"Wait!" Sansa protested, making Lyanna turn back. "May I join her? For the afternoon?" Lyanna smiled, though she tried to bite it back. This was no doubt the closest Sansa would come to ask if she was forgiven, and their father knew it too as he nodded his agreement.

"If your sister agrees." Sansa looked at her expectantly as Lyanna gave her agreement. "I will send some guards with Arya when she delivers Night and Ivory. I will expect you to return home with her."

They watched the carriage drive away, and for the first time Lyanna noticed the two red guards that had followed behind them, Lannister guards, her guards. They saw her watching them and both bowed slightly to her.

"My lady?" This was wrong. These were not her guards, she did not know these guards, she did not recognize these guards.

"What are your names?" She asked instead. They both answered and she tried to remember them both for future reference. But as they reached the doors another uncomfortable predicament presented itself. She did not know where to go or where anything was bar her quarters, her husband's, and one of the smaller dining halls where they had broken fast that morning. The thought of her quarters, and her soft, new, and never slept in bed almost made regretted inviting Sansa. Jaime had taken her into his after the wedding and she had only briefly glimpsed her own that morning as the maids helped her dress. It had looked so inviting, and she was tired, and while the pain had eased, she was still sore. She wanted that bed. Instead she turned to give her sister an apologetic smile.

"I fear we will have to ask for a tour, I know where nothing is. It was quite hectic this morning."

"I don't mind." Sansa assured her, and her expression revealed just how true that was. She looked far more exited at the prospect than Lyanna looked or felt.

While Lyanna was suitably impressed with her new home, more extravagant than even the King's castle, she was not nearly as enthralled as her sister as she ohed and ahed over the rooms and views from Lyanna's side. Already talking gatherings she could have, and making other suggestions. Seeing to a grand home had always been Sansa's fate, she had always known and, as such, had soaked up the lessons of their childhood. Lyanna had paid little attention, knowing she would never be the lady of a home that would do half the things they were being taught. Instead she had learned to defend herself, how to shoot an arrow, should she ever need to fend for herself, and how to deal with the financial aspects of running a home. It seemed she had been mistaken in her assumption. She also much doubted she would ever have go and hunt to make sure her and Jaime would have enough food for the winter. She had married a Lannister, she would never have to worry about her financial future again.

After finding herself sitting alone by the dining table for the first time in her life Lyanna refused to stay in the hall long, instead putting together a plate and bringing it with her to her quarters, and her nice feather bed. If she was going to spend her first evening alone without her husband she would do so in comfort. She had wanted to lie down from the second she had been forced out of the bed that morning. And by the time her husband made it home from the Red Keep, she was already curled up in her bed with Night guarding her. It was in fact Night's growl that woke her and drew her attention to Jaime, standing in the doorway, watching her.

"With a token such as this", he gestured to the necklace around his neck. She almost laughed. "I almost think you wish my life to come to an end in tomorrows tournament." He said, his voice as amused and unconcerned as always.

"Then perhaps I will find a husband who will dine with his wife next time I marry." She replied. "Or inform her when he leaves, and when he shall return."

"I am a member of the king's guard. It is my duty to safeguard our king and queen. Whenever that may be." He replied, sounding almost dismissing.

"My father, the hand of the king, would dine with his family every night. Yet you will not even dine with me my first evening meal here?"

"I was unaware I would be so missed." His voice was almost teasing now, in truth he had not think she would mind. He had been informed she left the tourney ground with her father and sisters. And after he had been released from his duty of watching the King parade whores into his bedchambers, and listening as he humiliated his sister, he had dined with Cersei and her children. The thought that Lyanna might have intended to dine with him had never crossed his mind.

"I have never dined alone before, never." She responded sharply, not liking his tone. When she had been ill, even when she had been forbidden from attending the royal feast, she had never been alone. Arya or Jon had been there. Like he should be with her now!

There must have been something in her face or voice because the next words that left her husband's lips surprised her with their sincerity. "I apologize. This is your first night here bar our wedding night. I should not have left you alone. I should have returned after I had preformed my duty to the King." At her shocked silence his smirk resurfaced, and his ever presence arrogance returned. "Now, what words did you feel the need to have with my father this morning that you could not wish your husband luck before he left for a tournament?"

"You were to prance around on a horse while being ogled by every woman and child in King's Landing, hardly a great feat or challenge." She defended, only making his smirk double in size.

"Am I to understand that my lady wife does not appreciate other women 'ogling' her husband?" he moved towards her, ignoring the direwolf completely. Having seen his wife demonstrate complete control over the beast during their journey on the King's road he felt no need to be concerned. Without her say so, it would not move a muscle to attack him.

"I merely find the thing unnecessary." She protested, while true, it sounded weak even to her ears.

"Perhaps I shall prove to you then that I will always have time for my wife, regardless to how many women are 'ogling' me." He said, still amused, making his way towards her, and the bed.

**TBC…**


	11. The Arrest

The days that followed the opening of the tourney were both odd and bloody. The first evening Jaime had returned, pleased with his success. He had qualified for the semi-final during the day's rounds. Yet Lyanna could not help but wonder at the death that had occurred. It was not the first death she had seen, before her father had taught her to use a dagger he had made it a condition for her to see death first hand, see the King's justice done by her father's own hand. That had been her first death. Yet this one death seamed strange, it was simply too odd that the one and only death during the joust had happened during the very first round. Ser Hugh of the Vale was admittedly young, though not oddly so. Her husband had informed her that he had been younger than she was now when he rode in his first tournament. But it was not only his age and skill that had led his death, she had noticed that his gorget wasn't fastened probably, and if she had noticed surely Ser Gregor Clegane, a trusted bannerman of the Lannisters, would have noticed. No, Ser Hugh's death had been no accident. She had heard stories of the Clegane brothers' love for death and violence, and she would have dismissed the death as a result of it, but she had seen other opportunities to cause great injury during his other rounds, opportunities he had forgone. No, the death was odd. Though when her husband seemed unconcerned by the death she let the subject drop.

"I fear I will not be available to attend the games until after mid-day tomorrow, my lord."

"Has Cersei decided to occupy your time again? I will talk to her." His superior attitude bothered her, she did not need him to fight her battles for her, but she bit back her anger.

"No, the Queen had been nothing but kind. Ser Barristan asked if he might call, it has been days since our last game you see."

"Game?" He asked suddenly curious again.

"Ser Barristan has been kind enough to teach me to play chess. He used to come almost every day before the wedding took up too much of my time. I dare say I have missed his company these last few days."

"I was unaware he had taken such a deep interest in you."

"He says that I will need the be apt at the game to survive court life. It is all about thinking ahead, he says."

"He is a talented strategist." Jaime admitted. "You could have had few more talented teachers. You seem to have a talent for choosing good allies, my lady."

"Whatever do you mean?" She asked, she wanted to know just how close an eye he had been keeping on her. In truth she had been surprised he had not known of Ser Barristan's visits, considering his words to the Queen. Then again their chess games had begun shortly after the archery challenge, perhaps Jaime had lost interest by then.

"First my brother, then the king, and now the leader of his guard. Two of which seem to have taken it upon themselves to teach you. And one to protect you."

"Your brother and Ser Barristan are intelligent men, they know many things I do not. As for the king, I fear I had little to do with it. Should I have taken more after my mother than my aunt I think he would have had little interest in me."

"Perhaps I have underestimated your cunning, wife." He admitted, smiling.

"I have not a single devious bone in my body." She told him, remembering his own words. A few of many that had made her see the uses of spies and allies. Words that had made her accept Ser Barristan's challenge, words that had made her act more kindly towards maids and servants, even help one pay for medicine for one of their children. Once she had been kind and talkative with servants out of pure curiosity and kindness, now it was to survive the indicate lanes and passages of the court. She was fairly confident even some of the Queen's personal servants would come and warn her if she or her family were in danger now. For now that was all she cared to know. But she had no desire to tell her husband that.

The day after the joust final Lyanna one of her father's maids came calling on her former lady. She had often helped Lyanna dress and bath in the mornings since arriving in King's landing and had taken a liking to her lady. She had even requested to come with Lyanna when she married, while she had denied the request on behalf of her sisters, it seemed the maid was still loyal to her more than the rest of her family. The maid had heard her father and Ser Jory talking and felt the need to inform Lyanna, Lady Stark had 'arrested' Lord Tyrion for attempting to have Bran assassinated. An attempt Lyanna had not even heard of.

It had taken Lyanna a good few minutes to gather her wits about her at the news. She refused to believe Lord Tyrion responsible for something like that; it would gain him nothing, he had no reason. She needed to find her husband before he heard from someone else and did something regrettable. From what she had learned about the Lannisters this was an offence they would not take lightly. She needed to speak with him, immediately.

Two hours later Lyanna was all but running though the corridors of the Red Keep, apparently her husband was on Queen duty that day, which was all the better in Lyanna's opinion. While she was under no delusion that the Queen particularly liked her she was more likely to help her talk Jaime down than take his side and storm out the door looking for her father and family for a bloody retribution. She, if not Jaime, would see the possible reputations of such an action. However finding the Queen was more difficult than she had expected it to be. It took her a good while before she found someone who informed her the Queen was resting, only to have another guard outside the Queen's quarters inform her that she had ordered not to be disturbed under any circumstances.

No matter what Lyanna told them, she tried explaining politely, demanding to see her husband, and even pleading, nothing worked. She had been there nearly an hour before she saw her husband walking towards them, a surprised look on his face as he saw his aggravated wife waiting there.

"Lyanna-" Be begun only to have her swirl to look at him, and sigh in relief at the sight of him.

"Would you please tell these two men to let me though, I need to speak with both you and your sister. It is urgent." He didn't need to say a word, a mere gesture with his hands made the two guards to what she had been trying to get them to do for a good long while. Move. Though he seemed fairly amused by her irritation as she walked beside him towards the queen's bedchamber. There he hesitated, wearing a fairly strange expression on his face as he looked between her and the door, then gestured for her to wait in one of the other rooms while he went to get his sister.

The queen did not look pleased as she followed Jaime into the room and saw Lyanna waiting by the window. The view was truly amazing, so different from any in Winterfell, but just as beautiful.

"Lyanna." She greeted, a forced smile on her lips, making her turn around to face them.

Suddenly nervous and uncertain Lyanna had to physically restrain herself and steady her voice as she spoke.

"Lady Stark has done something foolish, and I am here to plead with you to allow me to deal with it diplomatically, or at least try to, before you take action." She finally said.

"What has she done?" Jaime asked, more curious than anything else, the queen however looked unconcerned. So far so good.

"There was an attempt on Brandon's, my half-brother, life. Someone sent an assassin to his room."

"What does this have to do with us?" The Queen asked, with just a hint of annoyance. Though Lyanna saw her send a glance Jaime's way. He did the same.

"My father's wife is under the illusion that Lord Tyrion is responsible." This seemed to spark some interest and maybe even amusement in the Queen's eyes, but Jaime looked angry.

"What measures has she taken?"

"She has arrested him…. My father knew nothing of her plans, he is attempting to solve the problem as we speak."

"He sent you as his emissary?" Jaime asked through clenched teeth.

"No, he does not know that I know. He hopes to solve the matter before news reaches you. I am not as hopeful as he. I am sure someone will inform you of what has occurred before the sun rises tomorrow and the matter will not be solved before then. You know I hold great affection for Lord Tyrion, he is a good friend. I do not believe he did this, and with your permission I was hoping to see my father as the Lannister representative on this matter this afternoon."

Before she had even finished speaking her husband was making his way towards the door, Lyanna wasn't sure if it was her calling his name or the queen doing so that made him stop. It didn't matter, what mattered was that he had stopped and turned around to face them both again. He was furious. But he had stopped.

"Let her try." The queen said. "The King might just take Eddard Stark's side, and our father has taken a liking to your wife. Did he not tell you to keep her happy?" She continued as if his said wife wasn't even in the room. "Do you think killing her father will make her so?" That seemed to take some of the anger out of him as he glanced over at his worried wife. His face didn't soften, but there was something in his eyes that changed, something Lyanna couldn't put her finger on.

"Ned Stark had nothing to do with this?"

"I am told he seemed most upset by the news. He wants a peaceful ending to all this. I don't know if he believes him innocent, but he is not stupid." Jaime's expression clearly started that he disagreed with her assessment of her father. "He is honorable, and he foolishly believes everyone else is too. But he is not stupid, he knows what a war between our families would lead to. He will help us."

"Us?" Jaime asked, sounding almost sarcastic. "You no longer see yourself as a Stark then?"

"I was a Snow. But I am of their blood, and I don't want to see any of it staining the ground. Also, Lord Tyrion is dear to me. He claimed me as a sister even before the wedding, he did so before any one else in your family. I may be married to you, husband, but you are still a stranger to me. Your brother is not. I want him here."

**TBC…**

Sorry it has taken me so long to post this chapter. Time has been running away from me lately, at most I will be able to post one chapter per week right now… sorry about that. But there is a lot to do at the moment, and with summer here… well you have to be social and out enjoying the great weather and neither my friends or my laptop screen will allow me to sit with my laptop at the beach or wherever we decide to go and work on our tans!


	12. The Ultimatum

Lyanna could only stare, no expression on her face, as she rejoined her guards. She was barely aware of them as she made her way into the carriage. For the first time in her life she felt it was a good thing she had listened to society's rules and used a carriage to go to the hand's tower. For at that moment she much preferred the enclosed space, away from prying eyes, to riding in the open. She probably wouldn't have been able to ride even if she wanted to…. Riding had always come natural to her; it was something she did when she was upset to calm down. But now… she wasn't sad or angry, or even hurt. She didn't know what to call it… disbelief perhaps?

When she had delivered the Lannister ultimatum, three days to release Lord Tyrion or the Lannisters would take him back by force, she had seen the accusation clear as day in her father's face. He didn't trust her motives… But why? Did he think she was getting her revenge on Lady Stark? Did he think she told her husband and his sister the news to gain their favor? Did he really think she would turn her back on her family? No doubt Sansa would think the same when she heard the news from their father… Perhaps her attempt to help them had finally made her a true Lannister in their eyes… At least Arya wouldn't believe it. That brought her some comfort.

She felt numb the rest of the way, it felt like she was walking in a cocoon of some sort and when night fell and her husband did not come to join her in bed she did something no proper lady ever should. She went to him. She needed an escape and if there was something her new husband was good for it was making her forget everything for a few moments every night. When she had tried and failed to seduce Jon that night before they left Winterfell she would never have imagined coupling would feel anything like…. like it did. She had feared Jaime's touch, even sought out her twin so that she would love her first lover, thinking it would make the pain and horror easier. Never would she had believed the act would bring her such pleasure… and from what she heard it was all Jaime's doing. She had often her tales of the pain, the need to just lie and suffer though… that was what the servants at home often told her, though they had advised that she pretend to enjoy it. Apparently it tended to please the man. There was no need to pretend with Jaime. No, not at all.

He looked surprised to see her in the doorway to his bedchamber, but not displeased. In fact his emotion seemed to go in the opposite direction as she hesitantly made her way to his bed. She was fairly certain her attempt to appear seductive was weak and almost laughable but her husband didn't seem to mind. No, his familiar smirk had even made its way to his lips when he spoke.

"And here I thought you would be angry with me this night. Never would I have imagined you to be such a insatiable wife…" He told her with a teasing edge.

"I am, angry that is, but you have your uses." She told him, an unwilling smile threatening to form on her lips.

"Do I now?" He asked amused. "And what pray tell would these uses be?"

"I want to forget, forget everything." She told him, sounding far more serious than she had intended. And she didn't like the brief look of anger that flashed on her husband's face, though she was fairly certain it was aimed at her family, not her. But it disappeared as quickly as it came and a smile took its place.

When she tried to go back to her own chambers after they finished, as Jaime tended to do after their love making, she was surprised to have him pull her back into his bed, telling her to stay the night. She had not done so since the wedding night… it felt like years had passed since then, not just days. It already felt like she and Jaime had fallen into a routine… it was almost funny to think that not even a week had passed...

As she played chess with Ser Barristan the next day he, as mildly as he could, informed her that the King had asked her father to resign from his post as the King's hand. And at his words Lyanna's thoughts had immediately gone to the Queen and wondered what words she had whispered in the King's ear to make him turn on his oldest friend. Surely lady Stark's imprisonment of her brother could not have been enough to make the King turn on her father, not even for a second. The King cared little for his wife and her family. But any thoughts she had in that direction had quickly been quieted as Ser Barristan continued, telling her that the cause was the youngest daughter of the Mad King, the last dragon; the King wanted her killed, her father had disagreed. And while Ser Barristan admitted he had done the same, her father had been more vocal and angered the King in the process.

She couldn't help but feel guilty at that. If she hadn't presented her father with the Lannister ultimatum, then surely he would not have acted so thoughtlessly… it was not like him. And now she would be left alone in the capital while her father and sisters make their way back to the North… But then again, she doubted the King would actually let him leave the post, he would take his words back when he had calmed down. If there was anything Lyanna had learned about her late aunt's betrothed it during their journey to King's Landing it was that he was quick to loose his temper… and make things right after he had calmed down... She hoped this wouldn't be any different.

It soon proved that she had been right in her assumption. The King had sought her father out less than a day later, taking his words back. She had not gotten any more detailed reports than that, from either her father or anyone else. News that however did surprise her was her husband's declaration that he would be leaving to join his father in the preparation that needed to be made, should Lord Stark fail to talk sense into his wife. Something it turned out he could not, and as the hour of the Lannister ultimatum past and Lord Tyrion's release did not come to pass Lyanna's heart sank.

By sunrise the next morning five men from the King's guard appeared on her doorstep informing her that she was moving into the King's castle for the duration of the disagreement between her married and birth families to insure that neither would use her as a pawn. Though she was fairly sure such a thought would not even have crossed her father's mind. The Queen's or Lord Tywin on the other hand… she was not so sure. Never the less the thought of her return to court brought her no comfort; in fact she would rather have stayed hidden in the Lannister residence in King's Landing until further notice. But as fate would have it, once again the choice was taken out of her hands.

Her return to the castle was quickly followed by gossip, and, on her part, worry. Additionally her father did not come to speak with her after her return. Sansa and Arya had however come on multiple occasions, even within the first day. Those were perhaps the only visits Lyanna truly enjoyed. The Queen would also come, or call her too her, though Lyanna did not doubt that it was only for appearances sake the Queen did so. After all, they were sisters now as well. But it was not the Queen's visits and summons she dreaded the most, no that honor befell King's summons and the prince's visits.

During the week she had been back at the castle the King had ordered her presence at every meal he attended, and many an afternoon he requested her presence as well. Though the later in the day the summons, the less he expected her to participate in his conversations or activities. Yet it was the later summoning and evening meals she dreaded the most. Those were the times he would simply stare at her, imagining her aunt in her place. Lyanna feared that one day he would have too much to drink and forget who she was, who her father was, and order her to his bedchamber. She lived in fear for such a day, for now she was without both her father's and husband's direct protection. Until the rift between her two families was mended the King had named her his ward. A fact that had blown new relife into the old rumors from when she first came to King's Landing.

Once again people were whispering about her behind her back, naming her the King's favored mistress. Before it had only been whispers, but now she was even received gifts and requests for meetings with her as they were hoping she would be willing to whisper their tales in the King's ears at night. It was humiliating to say the least. But it was understandable. If she saw the King's eyes on her, surely others did as well. And regardless of who she was married to now, she was still a bastard, and, as everyone knew, bastards had little honor and so they had no doubt she was welcoming the powerful man into her bed regardless of how handsome and powerful her husband and his family was.

As if the King's eyes were not enough for her to deal with, the prince's previous interest in her was becoming a borderline obsession. He came to see her in a private setting almost daily. Like his father he spent much of their time together staring at her, but what he saw when he looked at her she was not sure. But it seemed to be something utterly fascinating. At the moment however she was trying to convince her maid not to worry about the prince's attention. Though the fear and worry she felt regarding the two royals had literally made her sick on a few occasions, she also knew it was better if her maid did not share her worries.

"His interest in me is merely due to my sister, I am sure. He wishes to have a good relation with her family, especially considering how things are between our families at this moment. That is all."

"If you say so, my lady." The maid immediately agreed, hearing the hint of warning in her mistress's voice. "Lady Sansa is very beautiful, I admit, she takes after her mother and does not seem to have much of the north in her."

"That is because you have not seen her angry. There is no doubt she has the blood of a wolf in her then." Lyanna said amused, then as her thoughts wandered to Lady Stark she added. "It is her mother who taught her to hide her northern ancestry, taught her how to be a southern lady. As she had been taught by her mother."

"She does not seem to succeed very well with Lady Arya then." The maid said with a smile before a horrified expression swept over her face. "I mean-"

"Exactly what you said." Lyanna laughed. "And believe me, my sister takes great pride in her ability to ignore all her mother's teachings. Perhaps if she had found any of the boys at hom-, I mean at Winterfell, attractive in the least she might have ended up like Sansa in a year or two. Though I doubt it, and she seems to have little interest in marriage. She wants to be a knight, not marry one. I think, much to her mother's horror, Arya is more like I was at that age than Sansa was."

"Yet you made a fine match. If I may be so bold. I am sure Lady Arya will as well, after all she will be the sister of the queen one day."

"If she doesn't run away first." Lyanna said, amusement coloring her tone.

"Don't say such things, my Lady!" The maid said, sounding genuinely horrified. "Surely she would not do such a thing."

"Oh she would, though I would know just were to find her. On her way to our brother on the wall."

"One of your brother took the Black?"

"Yes, my twin brother, Jon."

"I did not know you had a twin, just like Ser Jamie."

"I suppose."

"Do you look alike?"

"Yes… though he has our father's eyes."

**TBC…**


	13. The Death of a King

Less than two days after her first week back at court had come to an end the King returned from a hunt severely wounded. And within the day Lyanna was sitting next to a delirious monarch as he drew his last breath. As she did so she could not help but pity the Queen. Even as the King had known he was dying it had not been her, nor their children, he had summoned to his bedside. No, those summonses had gone to Lord Stark and Lyanna. And as his last breath was drawn it had not been his wife's name on his lips, but her aunt's. Lyanna's.

As she left the King's chamber's she glanced at her father who had not spoken a word to her throughout the ordeal, though she had caught him looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face a few times though out the day, and the days before. She wondered what thoughts were going through his mind, but even more so she wondered what the new King and his mother would do with her now. King Robert's guardianship would mean nothing now, would they use her against her father? Would he even care? Maybe she should run away…

As the last thought went though her mind she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her middle section and cried out as she fell to the floor. Never had she felt anything like it, it was excruciating. She could not even explain the pain, she had nothing to liken it to, but she imagined it felt similar too if someone would stabbed her with a dagger. And if it did not stop soon she might very well ask someone to do just that and kill her. No more had she thought it before the world around her turned dark and she caught a glimpse of her father's worried face as he took her in his arms.

When the world once again came into focus Lyanna was lying in her bed, her sisters sitting restlessly next to her, as well as a maid who sat there genteelly cleaning away sweat from her forehead with a wet cloth. Lyanna had barely enough time to register the maid's soft smile as she locked eyes with her before Arya cried out that she had woken. Her cry was shrill and it made Lyanna wish she had not. However Sansa's reaction was much different.

"The healer thinks you are with child." She told her bluntly, not even asking about her elder sister's condition. "After your chambermaid here said you hadn't bled since you became her charge the Queen sent for your chambermaid at the Lannister townhouse to ask when you last bled." Lyanna wasn't listening.

With child… The words seemed to echo within Lyanna's mind. None of the words that followed had even registered. Could she really… could she be carrying a little boy or girl within her? Yes, she had felt ill and even occasionally gotten sick since Jaime left, but she had written it off as a consequence to her current situation. Never had any other possibilities even crossed her mind… it was too soon. She had not even been married a month. Her husband wasn't with her. No, it was not right, it could not be.

Yet, absent-mindedly, her hands went to rest on her flat stomach. Her dress had been removed, and it was only the flimsy fabric of her nightgown that separated her hand from her stomach. Was there really a life in there? A life that she and Jaime had created during their brief time together? She knew how babies were made, but the thought that they could be… it had never… She was a little late, but her bleeds had never been regular. It might still just be worry that had caused her ailments. It was still too early to tell to be sure. For now she would simply try to take things a little easier, just in case. Also, there could be no running away now. She had never run from her problems before, and she was almost ashamed that such a thought had even surfaced in her mind earlier that day. It was not who she was. She would simply have to make the best of her situation, as she had always done. It had served her well in the past.

With the decision made Lyanna ended up spending most of what remained of the day with her sisters, trying to explain to the elder of the two that it was indeed to early to be sure of pregnancies and such things. She would not listen. Instead Sansa was imagining how the child would look, and wondering if her and the prince's children would look similar to hers and Jaime's (since both the princes took after Jamie's twin far more than the late King).

No more than an hour after her sisters had left Prince Joffery came rushing in to her chambers without any preamble, not even a knock. He looked upset, she noted. But who would not after loosing a father? The real question was what brought him barging into her chambers at such a late hour. He had never done so before, he had always 'happened' to cross path with her in the gardens, by the fighting range, or somewhere else within the castle grounds. Never had he appeared like this, never.

"Lady Lyanna." He said as the door swung closed behind him, "Are you well? I was just told… My mother tells me you are carrying my cousin."

"I-" She was not sure what to say or do in the situation. If it had happened only a day earlier she would have demand he leave. It was most improper to have him barging as he had. But the Prince was to be King now, and she feared such action would not be wise. He certainly had his father's spoiled temper, and would not take well to anything he regarded an offence against his person. Though unlike his father he did not forgive such slights at a later date, nor did he hesitate to deliver his punishments. But she did not want this to become a habit. She had to be most cautious while she made her desire for him to leave clear. Most cautious, and careful with her words. "I am well. I thank you for your concern, my prince. Especially at a time like this, you must have much more important affairs to deal with then see to your ill aunt. But at the very least your visit gives me the opportunity to give my condolences in person. Your father was a great man."

"Thank you. You were very dear to him, as you are to me. You have my word that you still have the King's protection. You are still a ward of the crown. You and the child you carry."

"Thank you. Again, you are too kind to me." She replied dutifully. "But now I must beg your forgiveness for my rudeness, for I am very tired, and in very much in need of rest…"

It was first after her words had left her lips that the prince seemed to remember what he had done and how his action might be perceived. And if she hadn't known better she would have said the prince was embarrassed as he quickly bid her a good night and left. But she did not have the energy to care of such things, she was simple relieved he was gone.

Staring up at the ceiling her hands once again drifted down to her belly, her mind wandering back to her sisters' visit and their, and the healer's, claim. She had just but convinced herself that she could not be with child when the Prince had barged in. Surely her belly was too flat for a baby. She had seen expecting women… her flat stomach was nothing like theirs. Annoyed with her own inability to commit to a belief she snatched her hand away and balled it into a fist by her side. She needed to stop thinking about this nonsense.

She needed to plan if she wanted to survive. Her father could make his own plans. He seemed to have lost all interest and concern for his eldest daughter. It was up to her to protect herself now. A strange thought. Every plan she had ever made up until now had concerned her twin in one way or another, but not now. She was alone and at that thought her heart clenched.

She wanted Jon. He would never abandon her, yet had he not promised to always be there when she needed him? Well, she needed him now. They could go somewhere no one knew them, he would keep her safe, and if she truly was with child they could claim it was theirs, that they were wed to each other. They didn't look nearly as a like as Jaime and the Queen did. People would believe it… No, she was being silly, and she needed to stop her childish fantasies of running away. Had she not told herself that very thing earlier that day? She had a husband, and he had treated her well. Much better than she had dared to hope. If there was a child she would not take it away from him. Besides, she needed keep her wits about her, and her mind on the present. Not on impossible or uncertain futures. If her sudden marriage had taught her anything it was that one could never know the future. For now, all she knew was that the King was dead, the Prince was still too young to rule alone; there would be a power struggle in the city. And she needed to ensure her, and maybe her child's, safety.

The next day the healer had left strict instructions that Lyanna was to rest and not leave her chambers. It had taken her half a day to talk her way out of it, but she had not given up. She had remembered the decision she had come to the night before, and there was no chance that she would remain hidden away, not knowing what was happening in the castle or city around her at a time like this. She was favored by the late king, as well as his eldest son, she might as well take advantage of it. No matter how uncomfortable the two males had made her occasionally. For now she would fain ignorance to Prince Joffery's interest in her and act as if it was merely the familial interest one might have in one's aunt or sister's welfare. Maybe that was even all it was, though no matter how often she had tried to tell herself so she could not believe it.

Seeking the prince out for the first time in her life, Lyanna was not surprised to find him with his mother. The Queen did not look pleased to see her, the prince however could not have looked happier. Though the happy expression soon turned a little confused and concerned.

"Should you not be in bed, my lady? You should not exhort yourself in you condition."

"My son is right." The Queen was quick to agree. "A pregnancy can be most exhausting. Especially your first. You should rest, my dear, I will send you some herbs."

"I have never been one for resting when the sun is up. It would be a crime against the gods. I feel much rested today, do not concern yourself with my health at a time like this. I merely came to pay my respects to the new King. I am sorry to say I failed to do so properly during your visit yesterday." She continued, her eyes locking with Joffery's. He looked pleased, and she could only hope that this would not come back to haunt her. It was a dangerous game she had decided to play. She needed him, but she did not want him, and wasn't sure how to make him feel the same. For the first time she found herself thinking that being with child might not be such a bad thing after all. It might help her to keep him at arms length if she did indeed carry the Lannister heir in her womb.

"Then, if you will not rest, perhaps some fresh air would aid your recovery instead?" Prince Joffery suggested, the implication clear. "I would be honored if you allow me to accompany you."

"Joffery!" The Queen snapped before trying to placate him when he looked at her with a displeased expression of his own. "There is still much to be done for your father, and decisions to be made. You are King now."

"But there is nothing more important than family, have you not said so yourself mother?" He asked, already offering Lyanna his arm. "Come. I know you enjoy the rose garden, would you like to go there?"

As she allowed him to lead her out of the room and glanced back at the displeased queen the reality of her new game hit her hard. If she was going to use the prince as her new chess piece the she would have to fight the Queen for him. And she had no idea if she even had a chance at winning.

**TBC…**

Sow what do you think? Am I overplaying Lyanna's reaction to a possible pregnancy? What of her decision to really join the game?


	14. The letters

Lyanna was exhausted as she made her way into her chambers, it had not been easy to sit by the King's side, to smile at his stories, or listening to him vent. But she needed to remain in is confidence, and for the last two weeks she had done everything in her power to do so. Yet as she sat down by the small desk in her bedchamber and began to write her letter she could not help but think that this would be the first time she had been able to tell anyone her thoughts and feelings on what had happened Since the king's death. It was her first chance to explain why she seemingly had turned her back on her family. Why she had taken the side of the Lannisters.

In fact it was a wonder Jory had agreed to deliver the letter when she spoke with him about his return to Winterfell and Rob, the acting Lord of the North. At least that was the title he would hold until she could convince the King to release her father, or until the Queen convinced him to end his life. After that it would either belong to their father once more, or the King and his mother's chosen one. Not that Lyanna believed anyone but a Stark would ever be able to hold The north. It was after all their birthright; the very land would rise up and help them if needed be. Only a Stark could feel the winter coming, and only a Stark could assure its survival when it came.

_My dearest Jon,_

_I wish I was writing you this letter, the first I have allowed myself to write since our parting, because I wished to share with you the joys and wonders of King's Landing, and of my married life. But I fear it is not, much has happened since we last saw each other and very little of it good. I do not know how much of it you have been made aware though ravens from our father and siblings, but it can not have been detailed. That, as you know, is the reason I refuse to use ravens with you. When I write or talk with you, my other half, I can not remain short or speak only a few words. It would be too cruel to both you and myself to do so. But Joren is returning to Winterfell, as I am sure his mere presence as he hands you this letter will tell you, and I took the opportunity to write you and tell you all that have and are happening to me and our family in King's Landing._

_I will start by telling you something that will ease your worry, my husband has been nothing but kind to me. As I told you that last night in Winterfell, he does not love me, but he is caring when we are together. And while he has left King's Landing he left me with a part of himself, you see I am with child. I do not know if it pleases me or not, but for each day I grow to like the idea more and more. Perhaps I shall have twins. If such is the case I need never worry about either of my children for they will always have each other. Just as I will always have you, and you me, no matter the distance between us. I see a similar bond between my husband and the Queen, so I dare to say it is the magic of twins that we have been both blessed and cursed with. Just as you and I are one soul, so are they, and hence I shall never be first in his heart as he shall never be first in mine._

_Less pleasant news is the reason my husband is not by my side; he chose to ride to war with Lady Stark and her sister over his brother. You see, our father's wife has come to blame Lord Tyrion for the attack on our brother, though I am certain he is innocent. My husband's family gave our father an ultimatum to release my dear friend within a certain time frame, but when he failed to arrange it a war was inevitable. To keep me a part from the feud the King named me his ward and moved me to the Red Keep. As such I have had a front row seat to what has followed and it is not a pretty tale. Not since that ill-fated hunt two weeks ago._

_The King is dead, killed by a wild boar of all things. It is, in my opinion, a deserved end for such a man. I know our father held him in high esteem, but I fear I saw him only as an ignorant drunk, and whoring swine. I dare say our aunt's death was her salvation. I pity the Queen for having to been married to him. But she has bore it well, and I believe it has made her my greatest adversary as our new monarch, King Joffrey, has taken a liking to me and often lends me his ear. It is a relationship she despise, and me because of it. I fear it is a dangerous game we play, but one I must for the sake of not just myself, but also of our father and sisters. It is a fate that has fallen on me since our father's arrest. An event that must have reached even the Great Wall._

_I was not there the arrest took place and do not know the full tale, but he questioned the King's right to the throne. I dare nor speculate if it is true or not, for should I do so all will be lost to us. It is, I fear, only my good opinion and whispers that is keeping the King from having his head shopped off. But while my relationship with the King is keeping our father alive, it has made our eldest sister cold towards me. She thinks I am stealing her betrothed, that she would have been enough to keep our family safe. It would not have, it is clear to see the King has no great affection for her, though she is too blind to see it. The joy she once showed for my unborn child has cooled substantially and now she only sees the child as a tool and a weapon that will keep her King from my bed. Though her new attitude towards me is difficult, I do share her views to a certain extent. This child and my marriage to the King's uncle is the only thing stopping him from taking me to his bed. Just as out father's friendship was the only thing that stopped the late King Robert. _

_Brother, tell me, what have I done to be placed in such situations again and again? Is it because of what I tried to do that last night on our childhood home? Is it the gods punishing me? For they must be punishing me for something, for my only ally, our beloved Arya, has disappeared, or in my belief run away. While I can keep the King from acting against our father and Sansa, I fear I have no power to protect Arya when she is not by my side. I only pray whatever my sin is it is not too great, and will not cost Arya her life. For if there is one Stark that must be allowed to live until she is too old too walk, and surrounded by her loved ones, it is she. She is much more noble then I, or any other member of our house._

_This is not all I want to tell you, but then not all the parchment in King's Landing would have been enough for me to do so. Hence this will have to suffice for now. Be careful on the wall and beyond. For you are my only hope if my plans would fail me, so you see, for my sake, you must stay strong and alive._

_I love you._

_Yours,_

_Lyanna_

She sealed the letter with the Lannister seal; it was after all her seal now too, her and her child's. It was funny, she had not even written to inform her husband of their child. Not that she doubted for a second that the Queen has informed him, or at least their father. Lord Tywin had after all had a gift and a letter delivered to her, promising her safety and congratulating her on the new heir, for he was certain it would be a boy. Jaime had said nothing, not even sent a raven with a short message. It made her wonder if he knew or if he ever left the heat of battle. She did not know. But the thought made her pull out another parchment.

_My dear brother,_

_I do not want to know what you must think of me at this very moment, but know that what I do I do for our family. I have not turned my back on you. I do what I have to in order to survive and keep Sansa and father as safe as I can. But I must ask you to look for Arya. The Queen would have you, and everyone else, believe she is here, but she is not. The King informed me that she is gone, she simply disappeared when they sent guards to fetch her after father's arrest. You must find her, she is but a girl who knows little of the real world. Keep her safe. And should you come upon my husband on the battlefield, know that he fathered your niece or nephew, and if possible let him know before you send him to the next life. Please, I want him to know._

_Your sister,_

_Lyanna_

In truth Lyanna doubted her brother would stand a chance against her husband, her words had been more to give him an ace up his sleeve if Jaime captured him or were about to kill him. Perhaps the reminder that they shared family would help. After all there was little Lannisters valued more than family. For now that was all she could do for her brother.

Folding her second letter she retired to her bed, only to personally hand Jory the letters the next morning before he and the other Stark guards were being sent away from King's Landing and their imprisoned lord. She wondered if she would ever see him again.

Her world was changing around her, faster than she could have imagined, and all she could do was run as fast as she could and hope to not be left behind. Like her sister she might be held in the gilded cage of the Red Keep, but unlike Sansa she knew how to please the hand that fed her and how to use the power such knowledge gave. But while it might give her more power than most free men she was still in a cage.

**TBC...**

Hi! I know it is a bit short, but it is a quicker update than I have done in a while, and I would like to thank corazondepapel for the idea of having Lyanna send Jon a raven. Though I didn't take it literally it was what inspired me to do this chapter this way, for reasons stated in the chapter. I hope you enjoyed it!


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